BOUCHARD 


UC-NRLF 


MOLLY   CLLIOT 


(J 


PAPA    BOUCHARD 


THE   HOUSE   OF  EGREMONT. 

Illustrated    by    C.  M.  RELYEA. 

izmo.     $1.50. 
THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  LADY 

BETTY  STAIR.    Illustrated  by 

THULE  DE  THULSTRUP.  izmo. 

$i.M. 
THE   SPRIGHTLY   ROMANCE 

OF    MARSAC.      Illustrated  by 

GUSTAVE      VERBEEK.      izmo. 


TWELVE  NAVAL  CAPTAINS. 
Being  a  Record  of  Certain  Amer 
icans  who  made  themselves  Im 
mortal.  With  portraits,  izmo. 


She  had  asked  him  to  button  her  glove. 


PAPA  BOUCHARD 


BY 

MOLLY  ELLIOT  SEAWELL 


fllustratett  fig 
WILLIAM   GLACKENS 


NEW   YORK 
CHARLES    SCRIBNER'S    SONS 

1901 


Copyright  1901, 
BY  CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

Dramatic  and  all  other  rights 
reserved 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE,  U.  S.  A. 


Illustrations 


PAGE 

She  had  asked  him  to  button  her  glove 

Frontispiece 

//  voas  the  bird  vjho  made  the  first  dash 
for  liberty 5 

Monsieur  Bouchard's  back  and  legs  looked 
about  seventy-five 7 

With  an  affectation  of  ease  and  debonair 
ness ',  and  told  about  the  apartment  near 
the  Champs  £lysees 1 1 

He  stood  on  one  leg,  and  softly  whispered, 

ff  Houp  la!" 20 

Pierre,  however,  pretty  soon  solved  the  sit 
uation  by  putting  his  finger  to  the  side 
of  his  nose 28 

"  /  like  the  lively  tunes  they  play  at  the 

music  halls  across  the  street"   .      .      .      30 
vii 


340124 


Illustrations 

PACK 

"  And  the  girls  are  permitted  to  come  out  in 
their  stage  costumes  to  have  an  ice  or 
a  glass  of  twine" 45 

De  Meneval  pulled  from  his  pocket  a  glit 
tering  string  of  diamonds  ....  53 

"  Ta,  ta !"  called  out  the  graceless  dog  of 

a  captain 59 

She  looked  like  one  of  those  brilliant  white 
butterflies  whose  lives  are  spent  danc 
ing  in  the  sun 62 

"  Does  Captain  de  Meneval  know  of  these 

bills?"  he  asked  significantly       .  72 

They  went  out  like  two  sulky  and  disap 
pointed  children 9 I 

Monsieur  Bouchard  tried  to  reassure  her 

—  her  timidity  was  constitutional     .        98 

Monsieur  Bouchard  sank  or  rather  fell 

into  a  chair I0° 

As  L'eontine  and  her  husband  sat  op 
posite  each  other — each  felt  like  a 
criminal IIJ 

Still,   they  really  loved  each  other,  and 

kissed  affectionately       .  ...121 

viii 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

And  there  on  the  arbor  hung  a  cage  with 

a  parrot  in  it 131 

A  flock  of  girls,  each  escorted  by  a  young 

man,  generally  an  officer    .      .      .      .      133 

Monsieur  Bouchard  entered  with  an  air 

of  affected  jauntiness 135 

At   that   very   moment   L'eontine   and  de 

Meneval  were  watching  him       .      .      138 

Papa  Bouchard  stuck  pretty  close  to  the 

champagne 146 

Madame  Fernet  had  not  the  slightest  ob 
jection  to  be  left  in  charge  of  this  good- 
looking  young  officer  158 

He  took  a  seat  close  to  where  Madame 

Vernet  cwas  standing 163 

The  police  officers  seized  him  and  dragged 

him  out 171 

"  Go  to  the  devil!'"' 179 

All  three  of  them  bolted  for  the  exit  to  the 

garden 185 

Elise  had  that  evening  found  her  oppor 
tunity  to  go  round  to  the  Rue  Bassano  198 

And  drove  rapidly  home 200 

ix 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

In  the  middle  of  the  room  ivas  spread  a 

table,  =with  preparation  for  an  elab 
orate  supper 203 

To  tiptoe  and  actually  chuck  old  P.  M.  P. 

under  the  chin 208 

Leontine  would  motion  as  if  to  chuck  him 

under  the  chin 214 

Dragging  in  an  elderly  gentleman  by  main 

force  and  his  coat  tails  .  .  .  .  218 

Papa  Bouchard,  much  alarmed,  ran  from 

one  to  the  other 220 

"O—o-o-oh!"  shrieked  the  three  impish 
girls  in  chorus,  ft  ^what  an  outrageous 
proposition  /" 224 

His  ruddy  complexion  turned  a  sickly 

green 226 

She  sang 230 

She  e<ven  danced 231 

"  I  am  your  own  true,  demoted  Leontine  "      2.34 

The  door  ewas  burst  open  and  in  rushed 

Pierre,  pale  and  breathless  .  .  .  242 

With  much  discretion,  ranged  themselves 

primly  on  a  sofa 244 


Illustrations 

PAGE 

"  Paul,  stop  those  shocking  demonstra 
tions  " 246 

She  clutched  a  flower  pot  and  a  gold- 
headed  stick 247 

Major  Falliere  ceremoniously  offered  her 

his  arm 251 

Folding  his  arms  and  turning  up  the 

whites  of  his  eyes  ,  .  ..255 

Forcing  the  cage  door  open  with  almost 

human  intelligence,  flew  out  .  .  257 

"  Free !  Free !  gay  dogs  are  we  /"   .      .      260 


Papa  Bouchard 


Chapter  I 

ON  a  certain  day  in  June,  1901,  a 
cataclysm  occurred  in  the  quiet 
apartment  of  Mademoiselle  Celeste 
Bouchard,  in  the  Rue  Clarisse,  the 
quietest  street  in  the  quietest  part  of 
Paris.  This  catacylsm  consisted  of  the 
simultaneous  departure,  or  rather  the 
levanting,  of  the  entire  masculine  ele 
ment  in  the  excellent  old  lady's  house 
hold.  And  this  masculine  element  had 
been  so  admirably  trained  !  Monsieur 
Paul  Bouchard,  in  particular,  ten  years 
his  sister's  junior,  was  reckoned  a 
model  man.  Mademoiselle  could  truly 
say  that  during  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
fifty-four  years  of  life  he  had  never, 
until  then,  given  her  a  moment's  anx 
iety.  All  the  elderly  ladies  of  the 


P-upa  Bouchard 

Bouchards'  acquaintance  pointed  with 
admiration  to  Monsieur  Paul. 

"  Look  !  "  they  said  ;  "  such  a  good 
brother !  Mademoiselle  boasts  that 
although  he  is  fifty-four  years  of  age 
he  is  still  as  obedient  to  her  as  he  was 
at  fifteen.  So  prosperous  and  re 
spected  as  an  advocate,  too  !  "  And 
all  these  ladies  sighed  because  they  had 
not  succeeded  in  petticoating  a  brother 
or  a  husband  as  Mademoiselle  Bou 
chard  had  petticoated  the  prosperous 
and  respected  Monsieur  Paul  Bouchard. 

Pierre,  the  husband  of  Elise,  Made 
moiselle  Bouchard's  maid  for  thirty 
years,  was  as  well  disciplined  as  his 
master,  for  he  was  Monsieur  Paul's 
valet.  He  had  never  had  a  will  of  his 
own  since  the  day,  thirty  years  be 
fore,  when  Elise  had  sworn  before  the 
altar  to  love,  honor  and  obey  him. 

The  third   masculine  creature  in  the 

dovecote  of  the  Rue  Clarisse  was  the 

parrot,  Pierrot.      Nobody  knew  exactly 

how  old    Pierrot  was,  but  he  was  sup- 

2 


Papa  Bouchard 

posed  to  have  arrived  at  years  of  dis 
cretion.  Mademoiselle  had  spent  a 
dozen  patient  years  in  curing  Pierrot 
of  a  propensity  to  bad  language,  and 
she  had  taught  him  a  great  variety  of 
moral  maxims  that  made  him  a  model 
bird,  as  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  a 
model  man  and  Pierre  a  model  servant. 
It  is  true  that  Leontine  de  Meneval, 
Monsieur  Paul's  ward,  married  to  a 
handsome  scapegrace  captain  of  artil 
lery,  had  amused  herself  with  teaching 
the  bird  a  number  of  phrases,  such  as 
"  Bad  boy  Bouchard "  and  others  re 
flecting  on  "  Papa  Bouchard,"  as  she 
called  him.  And  Pierrot  had  picked 
up  these  naughty  expressions  with 
astonishing  quickness.  But  Leontine 
had  always  been  regarded  as  incorrigible 
by  her  guardian  and  his  sister,  although 
they  really  loved  her,  and  since  her 
marriage  she  had  become  gayer,  merrier 
and  more  irresponsible  than  ever.  This 
deterioration  both  Monsieur  and  Made 
moiselle  Bouchard  laid  at  the  door  of 
3 


Papa  Bouchard 

her  husband,  Captain  de  Meneval,  with 
his  laughing  eyes  and  devil-may-care 
manner;  with  whom,  however,  aside 
from  these  characteristics,  not  the 
slightest  fault  could  be  found.  He  was 
devoted  to  Leontine,  and  if  the  two 
chose  to  lead  a  life  as  merry  and  unre 
flecting  as  that  of  the  birds  in  the 
shadowy  forests,  nobody  could  stop 
them.  Papa  Bouchard  —  as  the  artil 
lery  captain  had  the  impudence  to  call 
him  —  did,  it  is  true,  keep  a  tight  hand 
on  Leontine's  fortune,  and  would  allow 
her  only  half  her  income,  at  which 
Leontine  grumbled  and  incited  Captain 
de  Meneval  to  grumble,  too.  But 
Papa  Bouchard,  having  full  power  as 
trustee,  met  their  complaints  and  pro 
tests  with  a  proposition  to  cut  down 
their  allowance  to  one-fourth  of  their 
income,  at  which  the  two  young  peo 
ple  grew  frightened,  and  desisted. 

Now,  there    dwells   in   every  mascu 
line  breast  a  germ  of  lawlessness  that  no 
discipline  ever  invented  can  wholly  kill. 
4 


Papa  Bouchard 

Man  or  parrot,  it   is  the  same.     After 
having   been  brought  up  in  the  way  he 
should  go,  he  longs  to  go  it.     Such  was 
the  case  with  Pierrot,  with  Pierre 
and  with  Monsieur 
Bouchard. 

It  was  the  bird 
made   a 
liberty. 


first 
for 


After  ten  years  of  irreproachable  con 
duct,  Pierrot,  on  that  June  morning, 
suddenly  jumped  from  the  balcony, 
where  he  had  been  walking  the  railing 
5 


Papa  Bouchard 

in  the  most  sedate  manner,  and  scuttled 
off  in  the  direction  of  the  Alcazar  d'Ete, 
the  Ambassadeurs,  the  Moulin  Rouge, 
and  the  very  gayest  quarter  of  Paris. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  was  sitting  on 
the  balcony  at  the  time.  He  was 
rather  younger  looking,  with  his  clean 
shaven  face  and  wiry  figure,  than  most 
men  of  his  age,  but  thanks  to  Made 
moiselle  Celeste,  he  patronized  the  same 
tailors  that  had  made  for  his  father 
and  his  grandfather.  Their  cut  and 
style  indicated  that  they  had  been  tailors 
to  Cardinal  Richelieu  and  others  of  that 
time,  and  they  dressed  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  in  coats  and  trousers  and  waist 
coats  of  the  pliocene  age  of  tailoring. 
As  for  his  hats,  they  might  have  been 
dug  out  of  Pompeii,  for  any  modernity 
they  had,  and  the  result  was  that  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  back  and  legs  looked 
about  seventy-five,  while  his  face  looked 
little  more  than  forty. 

Instead  of  giving  the  alarm  when 
Pierrot  trotted  gaily  off,  Monsieur 
6 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard  felt    a  strange  thrill   of  sym 
pathy  with  the  runaway. 

"  Poor    devil  !  "  thought  he.     "  No 
doubt  he  is  sick  of  the  Rue  Clarisse  — 
tired  of  the  moral  maxims  — 
weary  of  the  whole  business. 
He  is  n't  so  young  as  he  was, 
but   there 's   a   good    deal  of 
life    in   him    still  "  —  Pierrot 
was  just   scampering  around 
the  corner  —  "and  he  wants 
to  see  life." 

"There  is  a  psychologic 
moment  for  everything,"  so 
Otto  von  Bismarck  said.  The 
parrot's  escape  made  a  psy 
chologic  moment  for  Monsieur 
Bouchard,  and  quietly  putting  on  his 
hat,  and  telling  Mademoiselle  Bouchard 
that  he  was  going  to  a  meeting  of 
the  Society  of  French  Antiquarians  at 
St.  Germains,  and  afterward  for  a 
stroll  through  the  museum  in  the 
town,  made  straight  for  a  street 
in  the  neighborhood  of  the  Champs 
7 


Papa  Bouchard 

Elvsees.  He  remembered  seeing  in 
that  quarter  a  handsome  new  apart 
ment  house  lately  finished  and  thor 
oughly  modern.  He  had  for  curiosity's 
sake  entered  it.  He  had  seen  fur 
nished  apartments  so  bright,  so  light, 
so  cheery,  so  merry  that  he  longed  to 
establish  himself  there.  He  had  gone 
back  once,  twice,  thrice,  each  time 
more  infatuated  with  the  place.  To 
day  he  walked  in,  selected  a  vacant 
apartment,  and  in  ten  minutes  had 
taken  a  lease  of  it  for  a  year. 

And  then  he  had  to  go  back  to  the 
Rue  Clarisse  to  tell  about  it. 

Of  course,  he  had  not  thrown  off 
the  yoke  of  thirty  years  without  secret 
alarms,  agitations  and  palpitations.  He 
walked  up  and  down  the  Rue  Clarisse 
twice,  his  heart  thumping  loudly  against 
his  ribs,  before  he  could  screw  up  reso 
lution  to  enter.  He  was  nerved,  how 
ever,  by  the  recollection  of  the  apartment 
he  had  just  seen ;  it  had  been  given  up 
the  day  before  by  a  young  journalist, 


Papa  Bouchard 

named  Marsac,  who  had  left  various 
souvenirs  of  a  very  pleasant  life  there. 
The  street  was  such  a  bustling,  noisy 
street  —  and  the  Rue  Clarisse  was  so 
quiet,  so  quiet !  In  the  new  street  there 
were  two  music  halls  in  full  view  and 
generally  in  full  blast,  gay  restaurants 
blazing  with  lights,  where  all  sorts  of 
delicious,  indigestible  things  to  eat  were 
to  be  had,  and  such  an  atmosphere  of 
jollity  and  movement !  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  quivered  with  delight  like  a  school 
boy  as  he  thought  of  it, and  so  he  marched 
in  to  take  his  life  in  his  hand  while 
breaking  the  news  to  his  sister  Celeste. 
Mademoiselle  Bouchard,  a  small, 
prim,  devoted,  affectionate,  obstinate 
creature,  was  sitting  in  the  drawing- 
room,  bemoaning  with  Elise  the  loss  of 
Pierrot.  Elise,  a  hard-featured,  hard 
working  creature,  had  such  a  profound 
contempt  for  the  other  sex  that  it  was 
a  wonder  she  ever  brought  herself  to 
marry  one  of  them.  She  was  saying  to 
Mademoiselle  Bouchard : 
9 


Papa  Bouchard 

"Depend  on  it,  Mademoiselle,  that 
ungrateful  Pierrot  will  never  come  back 
of  his  own  accord.  If  he  had  been  a 
she  bird,  now  —  but  Pierrot  is  like  the 
rest  of  his  sex.  It 's  in  them  to  run 
away  —  and  run  away  they  will." 

"  He  has  had  a  quiet,  peaceful  home 
in  the  Rue  Clarisse  for  seventeen  years," 
wailed  poor  Mademoiselle  Bouchard. 

"  That 's  reason  enough   for   him  to 

O 

run  away.  What  does  he  care  about  a 
quiet,  peaceful  home  ?  He  wants  to 
be  strutting  around  in  some  restaurant, 
drinking  and  swearing  and  turning  night 
into  day.  They  're  all  like  that.  My 
Pierre,  now,  is  just  as  ready  to  run  away 
as  was  Pierrot,  but  I  shall  keep  an  eye 
on  him" 

And  then  Monsieur  Bouchard  walked 
in,  with  an  affectation  of  ease  and 
debonairness,  and  told  about  the  apart 
ment  near  the  Champs  Elysees,  whereat 
it  seemed  to  poor  Mademoiselle  Celeste 
as  if  the  Louvre  had  moved  itself  over 
into  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  and  the  Seine 
10 


Papa  Bouchard 

had  suddenly  begun  to  flow  backward. 
Of  course,  Monsieur  Bouchard  had  ar 
ranged  a  plausible  tale  by  which  his 
hegira  was  to  appear  the  most  natural 
and  laudable  thing  in  the  world.  Most 
men  are  inventive  enough  in  the  mat 
ter  of  personal  justification.  But  it  is 
one  thing  to  make  up  and  tell  a 
plausible  tale,  and  another  to  get  that 
tale  believed.  Elise  openly  sniffed  at 
the  theory  advanced  by  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  that  it  was  absolutely  necessary 
for  him  to  live  nearer  the  courts.  Also, 
that  he  was  really  inspired  by  a  desire 
to  save  Mademoiselle  the  annoyance  of 
clients  coming  and  going. 

u  You  remember,  my  dear  Celeste, 
you  complained  of  Captain  de  Meneval 
the  last  time  he  was  here.  You  said  he 
talked  and  laughed  so  much,  and  chucked 
Elise  under  the  chin " 

u  But  that  was  a  trifle ;  you  know 
there's  no  real  harm  done,"  protested 
Mademoiselle  Bouchard. 

"  Why  ?  Because  I  won't  let  him," 
13 


Papa  Bouchard 

said  Monsieur  Bouchard,  with  the  deter 
mined  air  a  man  assumes  when  he 
wishes  to  impress  a  woman  with  a 
great  notion  of  the  power  he  holds 
over  another  man.  "  It  is  because  he 
has  to  deal  with  me — a  man  born 
with  his  shirt  on,  as  the  peasants  say. 
Otherwise,  there  might  be  harm  done. 
De  Meneval  is  very  saucy.  When  I 
reminded  him  the  other  day  of  the 
promise  I  exacted  from  him  when  he 
married  Leontine,  that  he  would  n't 
go  into  debt,  the  fellow  grinned  and 
said  he  was  in  love  with  Leontine, 
and  would  have  promised  to  eat  his 
grandmother  if  I  had  made  that  a 
condition." 

"  But  in  reference  to  this  strange 
notion  of  yours  about  taking  an  apart 
ment  at  your  time  of  life " 

"That's  just  it,  my  dear,"  cried 
Monsieur  Bouchard.  "I  am  too  old 
not  to  have  a  separate  establishment." 

"  Too  old  !  "  cried  Mademoiselle, 
who  had  never  ceased  to  regard  the 
14 


Papa  Bouchard 

model  Monsieur  Bouchard  as  a  wild 
sprig  of  flamboyant  youth  ;  "you  mean 
too  young !  " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  was  tickled. 
What  gentleman  of  fifty-four  is  not 
pleased  at  the  assumption  that  he  is 
merely  a  colt,  after  all  ? 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  anxiously 
scrutinized  her  brother.  There  was  a 
lawless  gleam  in  his  eye  —  an  indefin 
able  something  that  is  revealed  when  a 
man  has  the  bit  between  his  teeth  and 
does  not  mean  to  let  it  go.  Mademoi 
selle,  good,  innocent  soul,  was  not  devoid 
of  sense,  and  she  saw  her  only  game 
was  to  play  for  time. 

"  Very  well,  Paul.  If  you  will  de 
sert  the  Rue  Clarisse,  I  will  look  about 
and  get  you  an  apartment  near  by,  and 
I  will  let  you  have  Pierre " 

u  Oh,  no,  no  !  "  cried  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  hastily.  He  had  no  mind  to 
have  a  domestic  Vidocq  in  his  new 
quarters.  "  I  could  n't  think  of  rob 
bing  you  of  Pierre.  Thirty  years  you 


Papa  Bouchard 

have  had  him.     You  could  not  get  on 
without  him." 
"  Yes,  I  could." 
"  I  can't  accept  the  sacrifice." 
u  I  make  it  cheerfully  for  your  sake." 
"  It  would  be  cruel  to  Pierre." 
"  He  will  make  the  sacrifice." 
"  That  he  will,"  interrupted    Elise, 
with    the   freedom   of  an    old    servant. 
u  He  will  caper  at  the  notion  of  leav 
ing  the  Rue    Clarisse   for    some  wild, 
dissipated  place  such  as  Monsieur  Paul 
has  selected." 

"  Monsieur  Paul  has  not  selected  a 
place,  Elise,"  replied  Mademoiselle, 
with  severity. 

"  But  —  but  I  have,  my  dear  Celeste. 
It  is  No.  25  Rue  Bassano.  I  have 
taken  it  for  a  year.  In  fact,  the  van 
is  coming  to-day  for  my  personal  be 
longings.  Pierre  will  see  to  them. 
And,  my  dear,  I  have  a  busy  day  before 
me.  I  am  due  at  the  meeting  of  the 
Society  of  French  Antiquarians  at  St. 
Germains  at  one  o'clock,  and  I  can 
16 


Papa  Bouchard 

barely  make  the  train.  Afterward  I 
shall  spend  some  instructive  hours  in 
the  museum  —  I  shall  see  you  to-mor 
row  —  "  and  Monsieur  Bouchard  liter 
ally  ran  out  of  the  room. 

"  There  he  goes  !  "  apostrophized 
Elise  to  Mademoiselle  Celeste,  who 
was  almost  in  tears.  "  That 's  the 
way  Pierrot  scampered  off,  and  Pierre 
wants  only  half  a  wink  to  run  off,  too, 
to  the  Rue  Bassano." 

"Elise,"  cried  Mademoiselle,  "you 
are  most  unjust,  and  your  suspicions  of 
Pierre  will  be  disproved.  Ring  the 
bell." 

Pierre  appeared. 

He  was  about  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
age,  height  and  size  —  medium  in 
all  respects  —  clean  shaven,  like  his 
master,  and  wore  a  cast-off  suit  of 
Monsieur  Bouchard's,  as  it  was  the 
morning  and  his  livery  was  religiously 
saved  for  the  afternoon.  He  was,  in 
short,  a  very  good  replica  of  Monsieur 
Bouchard. 

17 


Papa  Bouchard 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  stated  the 
case  to  him,  carefully  giving  Monsieur 
Paul's  bogus  reasons. 

"  The  Rue  Bassano  is  a  very  gay 
and  noisy  place,  Pierre,  as  you  know, 
with  a  great  many  theatres  and  res 
taurants  about,  and  much  passing  to 
and  fro.  It  will  be  a  change  from  the 
Rue  Clarisse." 

u  Mademoiselle,  I  know  it,"  Pierre 
replied,  showing  the  whites  of  his  eyes. 
"  I  would  much  rather  remain  in  this 
decent,  quiet  street." 

Mademoiselle  turned  to  Elise  with 
an  I-told-you-so  air,  and  said,  "  No 
doubt  you  would,  Pierre  —  a  man  of 
your  excellent  character." 

"  Yes,  Mademoiselle.  The  theatres 
and  music  halls  must  be  very  objec 
tionable —  and  the  restaurants.  I  sup 
pose  the  waiters  would  laugh  at  me 
when  I  went  to  fetch  Monsieur's  din 
ner  of  boiled  mutton  and  rice." 

"  Yes  ;   but  if  it  were  your  duty  to 
go  with  Monsieur  ?  " 
18 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Duty,  Mademoiselle,  has  ever  been 
a  sacred  word  with  me.  Though  but 
a  servant,  I  have  always  revered  my 
duty,"  replied  the  virtuous  Pierre.  He 
backed  and  filled  for  some  time  longer, 
as  servants  commonly  do  —  and  as 
some  of  their  masters  and  mistresses  do 
sometimes  —  but  finally,  in  response 
to  Mademoiselle  Bouchard's  pleading 
that  he  would  not  desert  Monsieur 
Bouchard  at  this  critical  moment  in  his 
career,  consented  to  brave  the  dangers 
of  the  gay  Rue  Bassano.  But  when 
Mademoiselle  hinted  at  the  horrid  pos 
sibility  that  Monsieur  Bouchard  might 
be  beguiled  into  sowing  a  late  crop  of 
wild  oats,  suddenly  a  grin  flashed  for  a 
moment  on  Pierre's  stolid  countenance 
-  flashed  and  disappeared  so  instantly 
that  Mademoiselle  Bouchard  was  not 
sure  he  grinned  at  all.  If  he  did,  how 
ever,  it  must  have  been  at  the  notion 
that  the  staid,  the  correct  Monsieur 
Bouchard  could  ever  sow  wild  oats. 
Mademoiselle  Celeste  blushed  faintly 
19 


Papa  Bouchard 

at  the  thought  that    she   reckoned  such 
a  thing  possible. 

Pierre  then  backed   out  of  the  door, 
wiping   two   imaginary   tears    from   his 


eyes.  Once  outside  with  the  door 
shut,  this  miscreant  did  a  very  strange 
thing.  He  stood  on  one  leg,  whirled 
around  with  the  greatest  agility  for  his 
years,  and  softly  whispered,  "  Houp 
la!" 

20 


Papa  Bouchard 

That  very  day  came  the  moving. 
The  van  arrived,  and  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  books,  papers  and  clothes  were 
put  into  it  by  Pierre,  who  seemed  to  be 
in  the  deepest  dejection.  Mademoiselle 
gave  him  minute  and  tearful  directions 
about  Monsieur  Paul's  diet,  exercise 
and  clothing.  He  was  to  see  that 
Monsieur  Paul  kept  regular  hours,  and 
was  to  report  in  the  Rue  Clarissa  the 
smallest  infraction  of  the  rules  of  living 
which  might  occur  in  the  Rue  Bassano  ; 
and  Pierre  promised  with  a  fervor  and 
glibness  that  would  have  excited  the 
suspicions  of  any  one  less  kindly  and 
simple-minded  than  good  old  Mademoi 
selle.  He  did  indeed  awaken  a  host  of 
doubts  in  the  mind  of  his  faithful  Elise, 
who  had  not  been  married  for  thirty 
years  without  finding  out  a  few  things 
about  men.  And  when  he  wept  at 
telling  her  good-bye  for  a  single  day, 
she  told  him  not  to  be  shedding  any  of 
those  crocodile  tears  around  her. 

Pierre,    mounted     on     the   van   that 
21 


Papa  Bouchard   • 

carried  away  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
belongings,  drove  off,  looking  as  mel 
ancholy  as  he  could  ;  but  as  soon  as  he 
turned  the  corner  he  began  whistling 
so  merrily  that  the  driver  asked  him 
if  his  uncle  had  n't  died  and  left  him 
some  money. 

When  the  Rue  Bassano  was  reached 
Pierre  jumped  down  and  skipped^  up 
stairs  with  the  agility  of  twenty  instead 
of  fifty.  He  was  as  charmed  with 
Monsieur's  new  apartment  as  Mon 
sieur  himself  had  been.  It  was  so 
intensely  modern.  Light  everywhere 
—  all  sorts  of  new-fashioned  conven 
iences  —  nothing  in  the  least  like  the 
dismal  old  Rue  Clarisse.  And  the  view 
from  the  windows  —  so  very  gay  !  And 
the  noise  —  so  delicious,  so  intoxicat- 
mgly  interesting  !  The  sound  of  rag 
time  music  came  from  the  two  music 
halls  across  the  way.  Pierre,  dropping 
all  pretence  of  work,  was  inspired  to 
do  the  can-can,  whistling  and  singing 
meanwhile.  The  open  window  proved 

22 


Papa  Bouchard 

so  attractive  that  Pierre  spent  a  good 
part  of  the  time  hanging  out  of  it,  and 
only  by  fits  and  starts  got  Monsieur 
Bouchard's  belongings  in  place.  And 
the  more  he  saw  of  the  place,  the  more 
exuberant  was  his  delight  with  it,  and 
the  more  determined  he  was  to  stay 
there.  The  last  tenant  —  the  jolly 
young  journalist  named  Marsac  —  had 
left,  as  Monsieur  Bouchard  had  noted, 
some  souvenirs  on  the  walls  in  the  shape 
of  gaudy  posters  and  brilliant  chromos 
of  ballet  girls.  These,  Pierre  might  be 
expected  to  remove  when  he  began  to 
hang  on  the  walls  the  severely  classic 
pictures  that  constituted  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  collection  of  art.  But  Pierre 
seemed  to  know  by  clairvoyance  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  latent  tastes.  He 
hung  "  The  Coliseum  by  Moonlight  " 
—  a  very  fine  etching  —  immediately 
under  a  red-and-gold  young  lady  who 
was  making  a  quarter  past  six  with  her 
dainty,  uplifted  toe.  "  Socrates  and  His 
Pupils"  were  put  where  they  could  get 
23 


Papa  Bouchard 

an  admirable  view  of  another  red-anck 
gold  young  lady  who  was  making  twelve 
o'clock  meridian  as  nearly  as  a  human 
being  could.  u  Kittens  at  Play  "  —  a 
great  favorite  of  Mademoiselle's  —  was 
side  by  side  with  a  picture  of  Courier, 
who  won  the  Grand  Prix  that  year, 
and  a  very  noble  portrait  of  President 
Loubet  was  placed  next  a  cut  of  a 
celebrated  English  prize  fighter,  stripped 
for  the  ring.  The  remainder  of  the 
things  were  neatly  arranged ;  the  con- 
cierge^  who  was  to  supply  Monsieur 
Bouchard's  meals,  was  interviewed,  and 
an  appetizing  dinner  ordered.  Then 
Pierre,  taking  possession  of  the  evening 
newspaper  and  also  of  a  very  com 
fortable  chair  by  the  window,  awaited 
Monsieur  Bouchard's  arrival. 

It  was  a  charming  evening  in  the 
middle  of  June,  and  still  broad  daylight 
at  seven  o'clock.  But  Pierre,  presently 
lighting  a  lamp  and  drawing  the  shades, 
gave  the  apartment  a  homelike  and 
inviting  aspect. 

24 


Papa  Bouchard 

Just  as  the  clock  struck  seven  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  step  was  heard  on  the 
stair.  Seven  o'clock  had  been  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  hour  of  coming  home 
since  he  was  fifteen  years  old,  and  he 
had  never  varied  from  it  three  minutes 
in  thirty-seven  years.  He  entered  the 
drawing-room  with  a  new  and  jovial 
air,  but  when  he  saw  Pierre  his  counte 
nance  turned  as  black  as  a  thunder 
cloud. 

"  What  are  you  doing  here  ?  "  he 
asked,  curtly. 

u  I  came,  Monsieur,  by  Mademoi 
selle's  orders,"  civilly  replied  Pierre. 

"Mademoiselle's  orders"  was  still  a 
phrase  to  conjure  by  with  Monsieur 
Bouchard.  When  the  yoke  of  forty 
years  is  thrown  off  there  is  still  a  feel 
ing  as  if  it  were  bearing  on  the  neck. 
Monsieur  Bouchard  threw  his  gloves 
crossly  on  the  table  and  asked  for  his 
dinner. 

"  It  will  be  here  in  five  minutes, 
Monsieur,"  replied  Pierre.  "  Will  not 
25 


Papa  Bouchard 

Monsieur  look  about  the  apartment  and 
see  if  I  have  arranged  things  to  suit 
him  ?  The  pictures,  for  example  ?  " 

Monsieur,  still  sulky,  rose,  and  the 
first  thing  his  eye  fell  on  was  the  prize 
fighter's  portrait  under  President  Lou- 
bet's. 

"This  is  intolerable!  "  he  said,  in 
dignantly.  "Why  didn't  you  take 
this  prize-fighting  daub  down  ?  " 

"  Because,"  readily  responded  Pierre, 
"the  place  where  it  was  would  be 
marked  on  the  wall ;  and  besides,  I 
did  not  like  to  take  the  liberty  without 
Monsieur's  permission." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  passed  on  to 
the  next  picture,  that  of  the  hero  of 
the  Grand  Prix.  He  liked  horses — in 
pictures,  that  is — and  really  found 
Courier  more  to  his  taste  than  "  Kit 
tens  at  Play."  His  countenance 
cleared,  and  when  Pierre  gravely  di 
rected  him  to  the  young  lady  poised 
on  one  toe  and  reaching  skyward  with 
the  other,  a  faint  smile  actually  ap- 
26 


Papa  Bouchard 

peared  on  Monsieur  Bouchard's  face. 
Then,  his  eye  falling  on  the  other  young 
lady  who  was  trying  to  make  twelve 
o'clock  meridian,  every  wrinkle  on  his 
forehead  smoothed  out,  his  mouth  came 
open  like  a  rat  trap,  and  he  involunta 
rily  assumed  an  attitude  of  pleased  con 
templation,  with  his  hands  under  his 
coat  tails. 

Suddenly,  however,  it  flashed  on  him 
that  Mademoiselle  Bouchard's  paid  de 
tective,  in  the  person  of  Pierre,  was 
eyeing  him,  and  with  the  quickness  of 
thought  Monsieur  Bouchard's  apprecia 
tive  smile  gave  way  to  a  portentous 
frown,  and  turning  to  Pierre,  he  said, 
sternly  : 

ct  Take  this  thing  away  !  It  is  rep 
rehensible  both  in  art  and  morals  !  I 
can't  have  it  here  !  " 

But,  wonder  of  wonders !  there 
stood  Pierre,  his  mouth  wide  open  in 
a  silent  guffaw,  his  left  eye  nearly 
closed.  Was  it  possible  that  he  was 
daring  to  wink  at  his  master  ?  Pierre, 
27 


Papa  Bouchard 

however,  pretty  soon  solved  the  sit 
uation  by  putting  his  finger  on  the 
side  of  his  nose  —  a  shocking  fa 
miliarity  —  and  say- 
roguishly  : 


"Ah,  sir,  I  have  something  to  say 
to  you.  I  was  forced,  yes,  actually 
driven,  from  the  decorous  quiet  of  the 
Rue  Clarisse  and  the  company  of  Made 
moiselle  Bouchard  and  my  worthy 
Elise  and  the  cats,  to  this  gay  locality 
28 


Papa  Bouchard 

by  my  solicitude  for  Monsieur.  That 
is  to  say,  Mademoiselle  thinks  I  was. 
One  thing  is  certain  —  I  was  sent  here 
to  take  care  of  Monsieur.  Well,  it 
depends  entirely  on  Monsieur  how  I 
take  care  of  him.  Do  you  understand, 
sir?" 

"  N — n — not  exactly."  Monsieur 
Bouchard  was  a  little  frightened.  Hav 
ing  Pierre  to  mount  guard  over  him 
seemed  destructive  of  the  harmless 
liberty  and  mild  gaiety  he  had  promised 
himself  in  the  Rue  Bassano. 

"  Just  this,  sir.  My  wife,  I  have 
reason  to  know,  expects  Monsieur  to 
watch  me  and  report  to  her,  Made 
moiselle  expects  me  to  watch  Monsieur 
and  report  to  her.  Now,  what  pre 
vents  us  from  each  giving  a  good  ac 
count  of  the  other,  and  meanwhile 
doing  as  we  please  ?  " 

Monsieur  for  a  moment  looked  in 
dignant  at  this  impudent  proposition, 
coming,  too,  as  it  did  from  a  servant 
whom  he  had  known  as  the  pattern  of 
29 


Papa  Bouchard 

decorum  for  thirty  years.  But  only 
for  a  moment.  Was  it  strange,  after 
all,  that  thirty  years  of  the  Rue  Cla- 
risse  had  bred  a  spirit  of  revolt  in 


this     hitherto    obedient     husband     and 
submissive  servant  ? 

Pierre,  seeing  evidences  of  yielding 
on  the  part  of  Monsieur,  proceeded  to 
clinch  the  matter. 

3° 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  You  see,  sir,  I  found  out  you  were 
looking   at   this   apartment.      If  I    had 
told   Mademoiselle  what  I  knew  about 
it  there  'd   have  been  a  pretty  kettle  of 
fish.      I   doubt  if  Monsieur  would  have 
got  away  from  the  Rue  Clarisse  alive. 
But    I    did  n't.     I  concluded  the    Rue 
Bassano   was  a  very  pleasant  place  to 
live.     I  like  the  lively  tunes  they  play 
at  the  music  halls  across  the  street,  and 
that  theatre  round   the  corner  is  con 
venient.     But  I  never  should  have  got 
away   if  I    had   showed   how   much    I 
wanted  to  come.      When  Mademoiselle 
proposed  it  to  me,  I  lied  like  a  trooper. 
I  not  only  lied,  but  I  cried,  at  the  pros 
pect  of  leaving  the  Rue  Clarisse.     That 
settled  it.      A  woman  is  like  a  pig.      If 
you  want  to  drive  her  to  Orleans,  you 
must  head  her  for  Strasburg.     So  here 
we  are,  sir,  and  if  we  don't  have  a  live 
lier  time   here  than  we  did   in  the  Rue 
Clarisse  it  will  be  Monsieur's  fault,  not 
mine." 

Monsieur  met  this  outrageous  speech 

31 


Papa  Bouchard 

by  saying,  "  You  are  the  most  impu 
dent,  scandalous,  scheming,  hypocritical 
rascal  I  ever  met " 

Pierre  just  then  heard  sounds  in  the 
little  lobby  which  he  understood.  He 
ran  out  and  returned  with  a  tray,  which 
he  placed  on  the  table,  already  laid  for 
one.  Then,  arranging  the  dishes  with 
a  great  flourish,  he  invited  Monsieur 
Bouchard  to  take  his  place  at  the  table. 
Monsieur  complied.  The  first  course 
was  oysters  —  at  three  francs  the  dozen. 
Then  there  was  turtle  soup ;  devilled 
lobster,  duckling  a  la  Bordelaise  —  both 
of  which  were  forbidden  in  the  Rue 
Clarisse,  because  Monsieur  Bouchard 
at  the  age  of  seven  had  been  made 
ill  by  them — and  a  bottle  of  cham 
pagne,  a  wine  that  Mademoiselle  had 
always  told  her  brother  was  poison  to 
every  member  of  his  family. 

But  Monsieur  Bouchard  seemed  to 
forget  all  about  this.  He  ate  and 
drank  these  things  as  if  he  had  forgot 
ten  all  his  painful  experiences  of  forty- 
32 


Papa  Bouchard 

five  years  before  and  as  if  he  had  been 
brought  up  on  champagne. 

It  was  rather  pleasant  —  this  first 
quaff  of  liberty  —  having  what  he  liked 
to  eat  and  drink,  and  even  to  wear. 
He  privately  determined  before  finish 
ing  his  dinner  that  he  would  get  a  new 
tailor  next  day  and  have  some  clothes 
made  in  the  latest  fashion. 

"  Have  you  found  out  the  names  of 
any  persons  in  the  house  ? "  asked  Mon 
sieur  after  dinner,  lighting  a  cigar.  It 
was  his  second ;  in  the  Rue  Clarisse 
he  was  limited  to  one. 

"  No  one  at  all,  sir,"  replied  that 
double-dyed  villain,  Pierre.  u  It  is  n't 
judicious  to  know  all  sorts  of  people. 
I  intend  to  forget  some  I  know." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  turned  in  his 
chair  and  looked  at  Pierre  ;  the  fellow 
really  seemed  changed  into  another 
man  from  what  he  had  been  for  thirty 
years.  But  to  Monsieur  Bouchard  the 
change  was  not  displeasing.  He  felt 
a  bond  between  himself  and  Pierre, 
3  33 


Papa  Bouchard 

stronger  in  the  last  half-hour  than  in 
the  thirty  years  they  had  been  master 
and  man.  They  exchanged  looks —  it 
might  even  be  said  winks  — and  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard  poured  out  another 
glass  of  champagne — his  third.  And 
what  with  the  wine  and  the  dinner,  he 
was  in  that  state  of  exhilaration  which 
the  sense  of  liberty  newly  acquired  al 
ways  brings. 

"  Monsieur  won't  want  me  any  more 
to-night  ?  "  asked  Pierre. 

"  No,"  replied  Monsieur  Bouchard, 
"but  —  be  sure  to  be  here  at—  "  he 
meant  to  say  at  ten  o'clock  that  night, 
but  changed  his  mind  and  said,  "  seven 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 

u  Certainly,  sir,"  answered  Pierre. 
"  I  expect  to  be  home  and  in  bed  before 
three." 

And  he  said  this  with  such  a  debo 
nair  manner  that  Monsieur  Bouchard 
was  secretly  charmed,  and  privately 
determined  to  acquire  something  of  the 
same  tone. 

34 


Papa  Bouchard 

Pierre  gone,  Monsieur  Bouchard 
made  himself  comfortable  in  an  easy- 
chair  and  began  toying  with  a  fourth 
cigar.  How  agreeable  were  these  mod 
ern  apartments,  after  all  —  everything 
furnished,  every  want  anticipated  —  all 
a  tenant  had  to  do  was  to  walk  in  and 
hang  up  his  hat.  Then  his  thoughts 
wandered  to  that  very  pretty  woman 
who  had  travelled  in  the  same  train 
with  him  that  day  to  St.  Germains,  and 
the  day  before  to  Verneuil,  whither  he 
had  gone  to  look  after  some  property 
of  Leontine's.  Madame  Vernet  was 
her  name  —  it  was  on  her  travelling 
bag — and  she  was  a  widow  —  that 
fact  had  leaked  out  ten  seconds  after 
he  met  her.  But  she  was  so  very 
demure,  so  modest,  not  to  say  bashful, 
that  she  seemed  more  like  a  nun  than 
a  widow.  And  so  timid  —  everything 
frightened  her.  She  trembled  when  the 
guard  asked  her  for  her  ticket,  and 
clung  quite  desperately  to  Monsieur 
Bouchard's  arm  in  the  station  at  Ver- 
35 


Papa  Bouchard 

neuil.  She  had  expected  her  aunt  and 
uncle  to  meet  her,  and  when  they  were 
not  to  be  found,  blushingly  accepted 
Monsieur  Bouchard's  services  in  getting 
a  cab.  And  that  day,  on  stepping  into 
the  railway  carriage  to  go  to  St.  Ger- 
mains,  there  was  the  dear  little  diffident 
thing  again.  She  was  charmed  to  see 
her  friend  of  the  day  before,  and  ex 
plained  that  she  was  to  spend  the  day 
with  another  uncle  and  aunt  she  had 
living  at  St.  Germains.  Knowing  her 
inability  to  care  for  herself  in  a  crowd, 
Monsieur  Bouchard  had  meant  to  put 
her  into  a  cab,  as  he  had  done  the  day 
before.  But  just  as  the  train  stopped 
he  was  seized  by  a  couple  of  snuffy  old 
antiquarians  and  hustled  off  by  them 
before  he  could  even  offer  to  take 
charge  of  the  quiet,  the  retiring,  the 
clinging  and  helpless  Madame  Vernet. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  lay  back  in   his 

chair  recalling  her  prim  but  pretty  gray 

gown,  her  fleecy  veil  of  gray  gauze,  that 

covered  but  did  not  conceal  her  charm- 

36 


Papa  Bouchard 

ing  features,  and  her  extremely  natty 
boots.  He  could  not  for  the  life  of  him 
remember  whether  he  had  mentioned  to 
her  on  their  first  meeting  that  he  was 
going  to  St.  Germains  next  day.  While 
he  was  cogitating  this  point  he  was 
rudely  disturbed  by  the  opening  of  the 
door,  and  Captain  de  Meneval  walked 
in  briskly. 

Now,  this  good-looking  captain  of 
artillery,  who  had  married  Monsieur 
Bouchard's  ward,  Leontine,  was  not 
exactly  to  Monsieur's  taste.  It  is  true 
he  had  never  been  able  to  find  out  any 
thing  to  de  Meneval's  discredit  —  and 
he  had  looked  pretty  closely  into  the 
captain's  affairs  at  the  time  ofLeontine's 
marriage.  As  for  Leontine  herself,  she 
was  devoted  to  her  captain  and  always 
represented  him  as  being  the  kindest  as 
well  as  the  most  agreeable  of  husbands. 
True,  he  was  always  complaining  about 
the  modest  income  that  Papa  Bouchard 
allowed  them,  but  Leontine  herself  was 
ever  doing  that,  and  urged  de  Meneval 
37 


Papa  Bouchard 

on  in  his  complaints.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  was  a  little  annoyed  at  de  Mene- 
val's  entrance,  especially  as  the  artillery 
captain  had  adopted  a  hail-fellow-well- 
met  air,  highly  objectionable  on  the 
part  of  a  man  toward  another  man  who 
practically  holds  the  purse-strings  for 
number  one. 

Therefore,  Monsieur  Bouchard  rather 
stiffly  gave  Captain  de  Meneval  three 
fingers  and  offered  him  a  chair. 

"  Changed  your  quarters,  eh  ?  "  said 
de  Meneval,  looking  about  him. 
"  Found  the  Rue  Clarisse  rather  slow, 
and  came  off  here  where  you  can  be 
your  own  man,  so  to  speak  ?  " 

"  I  was  not  actuated  by  any  such 
motive,"  coldly  replied  Monsieur  Bou 
chard.  "  I  came  here  because  the  rooms 
I  had  in  the  Rue  Clarisse  were  cramped, 
and  I  needed  to  have  more  space,  as 
well  as  to  be  in  a  more  convenient  quar 
ter  of  Paris." 

De  Meneval's  bright  eyes  had  been 
travelling  round  the  walls,  and  Monsieur 
38 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard  remembered,  with  cold  chills 
running  up  and  down  his  back,  the  pic 
tures  of  his  predecessor — that  scampish 
young  journalist,  Marsac  —  so  indis 
creetly  left  hanging  by  Pierre.  A  shout 
of  laughter  from  de  Meneval,  and  a 
pointing  of  his  stick  toward  the  red- 
and-gold  young  ladies,  showed  Monsieur 
Bouchard  that  his  apprehensions  were 
not  unfounded. 

"  Is  that  your  selection,  Papa  Bou 
chard  ?  "  cried  the  reprobate  captain. 
u  Never  saw  them  before  —  you  must 
have  kept  them  in  hiding  in  the  Rue 
Clarisse.  I  '11  tell  Leontine,"  and  the 
captain  laughed  loudly. 

He  had  a  great  haw-haw  of  a  laugh 
that  had  always  been  particularly  an 
noying  to  Monsieur  Bouchard,  and  this 
thing  of  calling  him  uPapa"  Bouchard 
was  an  unwarrantable  liberty.  So  he 
replied,  freezingly  : 

u  You  are  altogether  mistaken. 
These  extraordinary  prints  were  left 
here  by  my  predecessor,  a  very  wild 
39 


Papa  Bouchard 

young  journalist  —  I  believe  most  young 
journalists  are  very  wild  —  and  they 
come  down  to-morrow.  It  would  seri 
ously  disturb  me  to  have  those  ballet 
pictures  around." 

"  Well,  now,"  said  de  Meneval,  with 
an  unabashed  front,  "  I  think  you  are 
too  hard  on  the  poor  girls.  I  have 
known  a  good  many  of  them  in  my  life 
—  taken  them  to  little  suppers,  you 
know  —  and  generally  they  're  very 
hard-working,  decent  girls.  Some  of 
them  have  a  husband  and  children  to 
help  to  support.  Others  have  depen 
dent  parents.  They  're  unconventional 
—  very  —  and  like  to  eat  and  drink  at 
somebody  else's  expense,  but  that 's  no 
great  harm.  Plenty  of  other  people  in 
much  higher  walks  of  life  do  the  same." 
"  I  don't  care  to  discuss  ballet  girls 
with  you,  Monsieur  de  Meneval,"  re 
marked  Monsieur  Bouchard,  with  great 
dignity. 

"  But    I  want  to    discuss   them  with 
you,"  answered  de  Meneval,  with  what 
40 


Papa  Bouchard 

Monsieur  Bouchard  thought  most  im 
proper  levity  and  familiarity.  "  That 's 
what  I  came  to  you  this  evening  about. 
That 's  why  I  have  been  haunting  the 
Rue  Clarisse  during  the  last  ten  days, 
trying  to  see  you  alone." 

"Yes.  I  know  that  I  have  been 
honored  with  a  good  many  cards  of 
yours.  Also  of  Leontine's." 

"  Oh,  Leontine  !  You  may  be  sure 
she  does  not  come  on  the  errand  that 
brings  me.  While  she  feels  the  nar 
rowness  of  our  income  as  much  as  I 
do,  she  manages  to  live  within  her 
allowance,  and  I  don't  believe  owes  a 
franc  in  the  world.  But,  Papa  Bou 
chard,  to  come  to  business " 

De  Meneval  paused.  He  had  a  good 
deal  of  courage,  but  the  stony  silence 
with  which  his  confidences  were  met 
would  have  disconcerted  an  ogre. 

"  Go  on,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine," 
said  Monsieur  Bouchard,  icily. 

"  I'm  going  on.  You  see,  it  is  just 
this  way  —  that  is — "  de  Meneval 


Papa  Bouchard 

floundered  —  "  as  I  was  going  to  say  — 
Leontine,  you  know,  is  perfect  —  it 
really  is  touching  to  see  how  she  bears 
our  enforced  but  unnecessary  poverty. 
I  wish  I  could  do  as  well." 

Here  de  Meneval  came  to  a  dead 
stop,  and  Monsieur  Bouchard,  by  way 
of  encouraging  him,  repeated,  in  the 
same  tone : 

"  Go  on,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine." 

"  But  I  cant  go  on  with  you  fixing 
that  basilisk  glare  on  me,"  cried  de 
Meneval,  rising  and  walking  about 
excitedly.  "  I  believe,  if  you  say,  '  Go 
on,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,'  to  me  again, 
I  '11  do  something  desperate  —  smash 
the  mirror  with  my  stick,  or  turn  on 
the  fire  alarm.  I  assure  you,  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  I  am  still  a  respect 
able  member  of  society.  I  don't  beat 
my  wife  or  cheat  at  cards,  and  I  have 
never  committed  a  felony  in  my  life." 

"  Glad  to  hear  it,"  was  Papa  Bou 
chard's  fatherly  reception  of  this  speech. 

De  Meneval,  after  walking  once  or 
42 


Papa  Bouchard 

twice  up  and  down  the  room,  suc 
ceeded  in  mastering  his  indignation, 
and  sat  quietly  down  in  the  chair  he 
had  just  vacated,  facing  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  and  then,  still  floundering  awk 
wardly,  managed  to  say  : 

"I  —  I  —  am  very  much  in  want 
—  I  am,  at  present  —  in  short,  I  am  in 
the  most  unpleasant  predicament."  And 
then  he  mumbled,  u  Money." 

"  So  I  knew  the  moment  you  en 
tered  this  room,"  was  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  rejoinder. 

"  Then,  sir,"  said  de  Meneval,  re 
covering  his  spirits  now  that  the  murder 
was  out,  u  I  wish  you  had  said  so  in 
the  beginning.  It  would  have  saved 
me  a  very  bad  quarter  of  an  hour." 

"  Young  man,"  severely  replied 
Monsieur  Bouchard,  "  I  had  not  the 
slightest  wish  to  save  you  a  bad  quarter 
of  an  hour." 

"So  it  seems;  but  I  will  tell  you 
just  how  it  stands.  You  know  I  am 

stationed   at   Melun " 

43 


Papa  Bouchard 

u  I  have  known  that  fact  ever  since 
I  knew  you." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  There  is  a  music 
hall  at  Melun  —  the  Pigeon  House  — 
with  a  garden  back  of  it,  kept  by  one 
Michaux,  a  rascal,  if  ever  I  saw  one. 
Now,  it 's  very  dull  at  Melun  the 
evenings  I  am  on  duty  and  can't  get 
back  to  Leontine  in  Paris,  and  it 's  a 
small  place,  and  quite  naturally,  when 
one  hears  the  music  going  at  the 
Pigeon  House,  and  sees  the  lights 
flashing  and  the  people  eating  and 
drinking  under  the  trees  on  the  ter 
race  garden,  it 's  quite  natural,  I  say, 
to  drop  in  there  for  the  evening." 

"  Quite  natural  for  you,  sir.  Go 
on,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine." 

De  Meneval  restrained  his  impulse 
to  brain  Monsieur  Bouchard,  sitting 
so  sternly  and  primly  before  him,  and 
kept  on  : 

"Then  there  is  the  garden — j°Uy 
place,  with  electric  lights  —  where  you 
can  get  a  pretty  fair  meal.  It  is  quite 
44 


Papa  Bouchard 

unique — nothing  like  it  in  Paris  or 
anywhere  else  that  I  can  think  of, 
and  I  've  seen  a  good  many  —  '  here 
de  Merieval  hastily  checked  himself. 
"  It 's  quite  the  thing  to  give  suppers 
to  the  young  ladies  of  the  ballet  —  and 
some  of  them  are  not  so  young,  either 
-  in  the  gardens.  The  proprietor, 
of  course,  encourages  it,  and  the  girls 
are  permitted  to  come  out  in  their 
stage  costumes  to  have  an  ice  or  a 
glass  of  wine.  All  the  fellows  in  my 
regiment  do  it ;  it 's  considered  quite 
the  thing,  and  their  mothers  and  sisters 
come  out  to  the  Pigeon  House  to  see 
them  do  it.  If  it  was  n't  for  the 
support  given  the  place  by  the  garri 
son  it  would  have  to  close  up,  and 
then  Melun  would  be  duller  than  ever. 
The  Pigeon  House  is  unconventional, 
but  perfectly  respectable." 

u  Possibly,"  drily  replied  Monsieur 
Bouchard,  "  but  not  probably." 

"  Good  heavens,  sir !  you  are  mis 
taken.  Leontine  has  been  teasing  me 
47 


Papa  Bouchard 

for  a  month  past  to  take  her  out  there 
to  supper  some  evening,  and  I  've  prom 
ised  to  do  so  this  very  next  week.  Do 
you  think  I  'd  take  my  wife  to  any 
place  that  was  n't  respectable  ?  " 

De  Meneval  was  getting  warm  over 
this,  and  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  forced 
to  admit  that  he  supposed  the  Pigeon 
House  was  respectable. 

"  But  that  does  n't  prevent  these 
jolly  little  suppers  to  the  young  ladies 
of  the  ballet,  and  especially  those  given 
to  them  by  the  officers.  I  assure  you 
it  is  mere  harmless  eating  and  drinking. 
The  poor  girls  have  to  work  hard,  and 
when  they  get  through  of  an  evening 
I  dare  say  very  few  of  them  have  two 
francs  to  buy  something  to  eat.  So  a 
number  of  us  have  got  into  the  way  of 
giving  these  poor  souls  supper  after  the 
performance.  Even  Major  Falliere  goes 
to  these  suppers,  and  you  know  his 
nickname  in  the  regiment." 

"  No,  I  know  of  him  only  as  a  very 
correct,  middle-aged  man.  I  wish  you 
48 


Papa  Bouchard 

had    the    same    sort    of   reputation    as 
Major  Falliere." 

"  Well,  he  is  called  by  the  juniors 
old  P.  M.  P.  — that  is  to  say,  the  Pink 
of  Military  Propriety.  And  Falliere  is 
my  chum,  and  be  goes  to  these  little 
suppers." 

De  Meneval  brought  this  out  with 
an  air  of  triumph,  but  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  remained  coldly  unresponsive, 
and  then  de  Meneval  let  the  cat  out 
of  the  bag. 

"  And  I  say,  Monsieur  Bouchard, 
the  proprietor  of  the  Pigeon  House 
sent  me  in  my  account  the  other  day 
—  nineteen  hundred  francs  nineteen  cen 
times  —  and  I  have  n't  got  the  money 
to  pay  it." 

De  Meneval  lay  back  and  waited 
for  the  explosion.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  started  from  his  chair,  bawling : 

"  Nineteen    hundred    francs  !       And 
you  no  doubt  expect   me  to  pay  it  out 
of   your    wife's     income  !       I    wonder 
what  Leontine   would   say   to  this  !  " 
4  49 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  That 's  just  what  I  've  been  won 
dering,  too,"  replied  de  Meneval,  some 
what  dolefully.  "  Leontine  is  the  dear 
est  girl  in  the  world,  but  she  is  a 
woman,  after  all.  I  can  prove  to  her 
that  I  have  never  given  a  franc's  worth 
to  any  other  woman,  except  something 
to  eat  and  drink,  but  all  the  same  I  'd 
just  as  soon  she  would  think  I  spent 
my  Melun  evenings  sitting  in  my  quar 
ters,  with  her  picture  before  me  and 
reading  up  on  ballistics,  as  an  artillery 
officer  should." 

"And  would  you  deliberately  impose 
on  her  innocence  in  this  respect  ? " 
asked  Monsieur  Bouchard,  indignantly. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  calmly  replied  de 
Meneval,  "you  have  never  been  mar 
ried.  If  you  had,  you  would  not  talk 
about  a  man's  imposing  on  his  wife's 
innocence.  Love  is  clairvoyant,  and 
most  men  know  what  their  wives  wish 
to  believe,  and  gratify  them  accordingly. 
It 's  a  very  complex  subject,  and  needs 
to  be  dealt  with  intelligently." 
5° 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  I  think  our  standard  of  intelligence 
is  not  the  same,"  grimly  responded 
Monsieur  Bouchard.  "  But  when  I 
tell  Leontine  about  this  nineteen  hun 
dred  francs  due  at  the  Pigeon  House,  I 
trust  she  will  be  able  to  deal  with  you 
intelligently." 

"  I  am  afraid  she  will,"  replied  de 
Meneval,  with  some  anxiety  ;  "  but  after 
it 's  paid  I  know  I  can  persuade  her 
that  it  was  not  the  least  actual  harm  — 
just  a  little  lark  in  the  way  of  killing 
time." 

u  And  may  I  ask,  since  you  speak  so 
confidently  of  its  being  paid,  whom  do 
you  expect  to  pay  it  ?  " 

"  You,  sir,  of  course,"  replied  de 
Meneval,  taking  a  cigar  out  of  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  case. 

Papa  Bouchard  jumped  as  if  a  hor 
net  had  stung  him.  "  I,  sir  ?  Since 
you  have  assumed  this  modest  expec 
tation,  perhaps  you  anticipate  that  I  will 
pay  it  out  of  my  private  income  ?  " 

u  Oh,  no,  I   mean   out  of  my  wife's 


Papa  Bouchard 

income,"    replied   de   Meneval,  puffing 
away  at  his  cigar. 

u  You  are  too  modest,  Monsieur  le 
Capitaine.  Now  let  me  tell  you  this 
—  you  misunderstood  your  customer  in 
bringing  this  outrageous  bill  to  me,  and 
it  won't  be  paid.  I  have  a  sincere  af 
fection  for  Leontine,  and  I  don't  intend 
to  let  any  captain  of  artillery  in  the 
French  army,  husband  or  no  husband, 
make  ducks  and  drakes  of  her  money." 

Papa  Bouchard  leaned  back,  folded 
his  arms  and  looked  the  embodiment  of 
statuesque  determination.  Captain  de 
Meneval  puffed  a  while  longer  at  his 
cigar,  and  then  rose.  There  was  reso 
lution,  as  if  he  still  held  a  trump  card 
to  play,  written  on  his  countenance. 

"  Very  well,  Monsieur  Bouchard," 
he  said,  readjusting  the  blossom  in  his 
buttonhole.  u  I  am  sorry  you  are  so 
unyielding.  You  did  n't  ask  me  if  I 
was  prepared  to  offer  any  security  that 
the  loan  would  be  repaid.  If  you  had 
I  should  have  given  you  this." 
52 


Papa  Bouchard 

De  Meneval  pulled  from  his  pocket 
a  glittering  string  of  diamonds,  every 
stone  glittering  like  a  star. 

"  This  is  the  diamond  necklace  I 
gave  Leontine  on  our  marriage.  Of 


course,  I  could  not  afford  it,  but  I  was 
in  love  with  her — I'm  more  in  love 
with  her  now  —  and  I  gave  her  what 
would  please  her,  without  counting  the 
cost." 

Papa   Bouchard  gasped.      "  And  Le 
ontine  —  does  she  know  of  this  ?  " 
53 


Papa  Bouchard 

De  Meneval  shook  his  head.  "You 
see,  when  I  bought  this  necklace  for 
forty  thousand  francs  the  jeweller 
showed  me  at  the  same  time  an  exact 
copy  of  it  in  paste  —  seventy-five 
francs.  He  told  me  when  he  sold  a 
necklace  like  this  he  usually  sold  a  coun 
terfeit,  for  emergencies  —  you  know. 
I  bought  the  seventy-five  franc  neck 
lace,  too  —  and  I  didn't  mention  it 
to  Leontine.  I  think  all  the  philoso 
phers,  beginning  with  the  Egyptian 
school  of  something  or  other  B.  C., 
down  through  the  Greeks  and  the  Ro 
mans  to  Kant  and  Schopenhauer,  agree 
that  it  is  not  philosophic  for  a  mar 
ried  man  to  tell  everything  to  his  wife. 
So  I  never  told  Leontine  about  this 
imitation  necklace,  but  kept  it  for  an 
emergency,  as  the  jeweller  —  a  mar 
ried  man  —  advised  me.  To-night, 
when  I  saw  I  was  in  a  tight  place  and 
had  to  come  to  you,  I  quietly  slipped 
the  paste  necklace  into  the  case,  which 
we  keep  in  our  strong-box,  and  put  the 
54 


Papa  Bouchard 

real  one  into  my  pocket.  I  came 
within  an  ace  of  being  caught  by 
Leontine,  though.  The  dear  girl 
entered  the  room  a  minute  afterward 
and  asked  me  to  get  out  her  diamond 
necklace  —  she  was  going  to  the  opera 
with  some  friends  of  hers  —  and  off 
she 's  gone,  glittering  with  paste,  and 
as  innocent  as  a  lamb,  while  here  is  the 
real  thing." 

Papa  Bouchard  was  staggered  for  a 
minute  or  two.  Then  he  said :  "  So 
you  expected  me  to  turn  amateur 
pawnbroker  for  your  benefit  ?  " 

"Well,"  replied  de  Meneval,  strok 
ing  his  moustache,  u  I  should  not  have 
put  it  in  that  brutally  frank  fashion 
myself,  but  if  you  don't  care  to  act 
the  amateur  pawnbroker,  I  shall  be 
obliged  to  take  it  to  the  profes 
sionals." 

"No,  no,  no,"  cried  Papa  Bouchard. 

He  really  was   fond   of  Leontine,  and 

did  n't    mean    to    risk     her     diamonds. 

Nevertheless,  there   was    a    stand-and- 

55 


Papa  Bouchard 

deliver  air  about  the  whole  transaction 
which  vexed  him  inexpressibly.  He  sat 
silent  for  a  while  and  so  did  de  Mene- 
val. 

Papa  Bouchard,  for  all  that  he  had 
been  hectored  by  a  woman  all  his  life, 
was  yet  no  fool.  He  saw  that  de 
Meneval  had  him  in  a  trap,  and  rea 
soned  out  the  whole  thing  inside  of 
two  minutes. 

"  Now,  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,"  he 
said,  presently,  "  I  see  where  we  stand. 
1  will  not  lend  you  the  money  out  of 
Leontine's  income  —  but  I  will  lend  it 
to  you  myself.  I  shall  keep  this  neck 
lace  until  the  money  is  paid.  Mean 
while,  I  shall  go  out  to  see  this  place 
—  the  Pigeon  House  —  and  judge  for 
myself  all  these  facts  that  you  allege." 

"  Do  !  "  cried  the  cheerful  reprobate, 
with  a  grin.  "Perhaps  you'll  like  it 
and  get  into  the  habit  of  going  there." 

"And  perhaps,"  replied  Papa  Bou 
chard,  u  I  may  not  like  it,  and  you 
may  have  your  income  reduced  if  you 

56 


Papa  Bouchard 

persist  in  going  there.  And  then  — 
when  the  whole  transaction  is  con 
cluded  and  the  money  repaid,  I  shall 
disclose  every  particular  of  it  to  Leon- 
tine." 

"  By  all  means  !  "  De  Meneval  was 
actually  laughing  in  Papa  Bouchard's 
face.  "  I  '11  deny  every  word  of  it,  of 
course,  and  call  for  proof.  I  '11  tell 
Leontine  you  tried  to  persuade  me  to 
go  out  there  with  you  and  I  refused. 
I  '11  say  you  gave  the  suppers,  and  I  '11 
bring  twenty  of  the  best  fellows  in  the 
regiment  to  swear  to  it  —  and  you  '11  see 
who  comes  out  ahead  in  that  game." 

Papa  Bouchard  was  so  horrified  at 
the  cold-blooded  villainy  of  this  that 
he  could  hardly  speak  for  a  minute. 
But  he  refused  to  take  the  threat  seri 
ously,  and  demanding  the  bill,  which 
de  Meneval  promptly  produced,  said, 
stiffly  : 

"  You  will  hear  from  me  in  a  day  or 
two." 

"  And  how  about  the  advance  ? " 
57 


Papa  Bouchard 

asked    de     Meneval,   "  I     should     Kke 
about  a  thousand   francs  in   cash." 

Papa  Bouchard  put  up  his  eye-glass 
and  surveyed  Captain  de  Meneval  all 
over,  which  scrutiny  was  borne  with 
the  greatest  coolness  by  the  brazen 
captain  of  artillery. 

"You  see,"  continued  de  Meneval, 
"  the  story  is  very  liable  to  get  into  the 
newspapers  —  extremely  liable,  I  may 
say.  It  will  be  something  like  this  — 
that  Monsieur  Bouchard  held  Captain 
and  Madame  de  Meneval  so  tight  that 
they  were  compelled  to  let  Monsieur 
Bouchard  have  Madame's  diamond 
necklace  for  a  small  loan — and  the 
newspapers  will  probably  make  it  out 
to  be  Leontine's  wardrobe  and  my 
watch  and  chain  besides." 

De  Meneval  paused  —  the  fellow 
knew  when  to  stop.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  swelling  with  rage,  paused  too  — 
and  then,  taking  out  his  cheque  book, 
angrily  wrote  a  cheque  for  a  thousand 
francs,  which  he  handed  Captain  de 

58 


Papa  Bouchard 

Meneval    in   exchange   for  a   sheaf   of 
bills   produced  by  the  captain. 

"  Before  paying  another  franc,  I  shall 
go  out  to  the  Pigeon  House  and  inves 
tigate  the  whole  business,"  said  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  savagely. 

"Ta,  ta!"  called  out 
the  graceless  dog  of  a  cap 
tain,  picking  up  his  hat. 
"  Remember,  you  are  on 
your  good  behavior.  One 
single  indiscretion  at  the 
Pigeon  House  and  I  '11 
telegraph  the  whole  story 
to  Mademoiselle  Bouchard, 
and  then " 

Papa    Bouchard     simply 
sat   and    swelled   the    more 
with  rage  at  the  unabashed  front  of  this 
captain   of  artillery — but   he  was   gal 
vanized  into  motion  by  a   light  tap  on 
the  door  and  a  musical  voice  calling  : 

"Are  you  in,  Papa  Bouchard?" 

Although    all     the    fulminations    of 
Monsieur  Bouchard  had  failed  to  affect 
59 


Papa  Bouchard 

Captain  de  Meneval,  the  sound  of  that 
voice  flurried  him  considerably.  For 
it  was  Leontine's,  and  de  Meneval  had 
no  particular  desire  for  an  interview 
with  her  under  Papa  Bouchard's  basi 
lisk  eye.  He  turned  quite  pale,  did 
this  robust  captain,  and  muttered  : 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  caught  here." 

Papa  Bouchard  smiled  in  a  superior 
manner  —  he  rather  liked  the  notion  of 
de  Meneval  being  caught  there  —  and 
called  out  to  Leontine  : 

"Come  in." 

M.  Bouchard's  hat,  cape-greatcoat 
and  umbrella  lay  on  a  chair  where  he 
had  placed  them  on  coming  in.  With 
out  so  much  as  saying,  u  By  your 
leave,"  de  Meneval  slung  the  great 
coat  round  him,  clapped  Papa  Bou 
chard's  hat  on  his  head,  seized  the 
umbrella  in  such  a  way  as  to  hide  his 
face,  and  with  his  own  hat  under  his 
arm  opened  the  door  to  the  lobby  and 
darted  past  Leontine,  nearly  knocking 
her  down. 

60 


Papa  Bouchard 

Leontine,  wearing  an  evening 
gown,  a  long  and  beautiful  white 
mantle,  and  a  chiffon  scarf  over  her 
head,  entered,  somewhat  discomposed 
by  her  encounter. 

"  What  a  very  rude  man  that  was 
who  pushed  by  me  so  suddenly  !  "  she 
said,  advancing.  "  Some  of  your  tire 
some  clients,  Papa  Bouchard,  and  I 
order  you  not  to  have  that  creature 
here  again."  And  she  ran  forward 
and  kissed  Papa  Bouchard  on  his  bald 
head. 

Now,  it  was  plain  that  this  pretty 
Leontine  took  liberties  with  her  guar 
dian,  godfather  and  trustee,  and  also 
that  Papa  Bouchard  liked  these  liber 
ties.  It  was  in  vain  that  he  tried  to 
assume  a  stern  air  with  Leontine. 
She  pinched  his  ear  when  he  scolded, 
drew  caricatures  of  him  when  he 
frowned,  and  when  at  last  he  was 
forced  to  smile,  as  he  always  was, 
perched  herself  on  the  arm  of  his  chair 
and  declined  to  be  evicted.  And  she 
61 


Papa  Bouchard 

was  so  very  pretty  !  The  French  have 
a  saying  that  the  devil  himself  was 
handsome  when  he  was  young.  Leon- 
tine  de  Meneval  had  more  than  the 
mere  beauty  of  youth,  of  form,  of 
color.  She  was  the  em 
bodiment  of  graceful  gaiety. 
She  looked  like  one  of  those 
brilliant  white  butterflies 
whose  lives  are  spent  danc 
ing  in  the  sun.  The  great 
and  glorious  dowry  of  love, 
of  youth,  of  beauty,  of 
health,  of  happiness  was 
hers.  Her  entering  the 
room  was  like  a  breath  of 
daffodils  in  spring.  She 
was  a  most  beguiling  creat 
ure.  It  was  a  source  of  wonder  and 
congratulation  to  Papa  Bouchard  that 
this  charming  girl  did  not  succeed  in 
bamboozling  all  of  her  own  income 
out  of  him  and  all  of  his  as  well. 

Having  kissed  him,  pinched  his  ear, 
and     otherwise     agreeably     maltreated 
62 


Papa  Bouchard 

her  trustee,  Leontine  looked  round  the 
new     apartment     with     dancing     eyes. 

"  Well,"  she  cried,  laughing,  "  I  see 
how  it  is.  You  could  n't  stand  the 
Rue  Clarisse  another  day  or  hour.  Did 
anybody  ever  tell  you,  Papa  Bouchard, 
that  you  had  a  vein  of  —  a  vein  of — 
what  shall  I  call  it  ?  —  a  taste  for  the 
wine  of  life  in  you  ?  " 

"Nobody  ever  did,"  replied  Papa 
Bouchard,  trying  to  be  stern. 

"  Then  I  tell  you  so.  And  look  at 
these  pictures  —  oh,  oh  ! ' 

Leontine  covered  her  face  with  her 
chiffon  scarf,  to  avoid  the  sight  of  the 
young  ladies  pointing  skyward  with 
their  toes. 

"  And  I  wonder  what  Aunt  Celeste 
will  say  when  she  sees  them,"  continued 
this  impish  Leontine. 

"She  won't  see  them.  They  will 
be  removed  to-morrow,"  hastily  put  in 
Papa  Bouchard. 

"  You  'd  better,  you  dear  old  thing, 
if  you  value  your  life.  I  shall  have  to 


Papa  Bouchard 

tell  Victor  about  this.  How  he  will 
laugh  !  I  do  all  I  can  to  make  him 
laugh  and  to  amuse  him  when  he  is 
with  me,  for  it  is  so  dull  for  him  when 
he  is  obliged  to  stay  at  Melun.  When 
his  regimental  duties  are  over  he  has 
nothing  to  do  in  the  evening  but  to 
sit  in  his  quarters  and  study  up  ballis 
tics,  as  he  calls  it,  and  look  at  my 
picture  by  way  of  refreshment." 

Papa  Bouchard  sniffed.  He  com 
monly  sniffed  at  the  mention  of  Captain 
de  Meneval's  name. 

"  But,"  continued  Leontine,  trying 
to  curl  Papa  Bouchard's  scanty  hair, 
using  her  pretty  fingers  for  curling 
tongs,  "  he  won't  be  so  lonely  now  at 
Melun,  for  his  old  chum,  Major  Fal- 
liere,  is  stationed  there,  too,  and  he  and 
Victor  are  like  brothers.  You  know, 
dear  Papa  Bouchard,  that  you  yourself 
admitted  Major  Falliere's  friendship  to 
be  a  letter  of  recommendation  to  any 
man.  He  is  called  the  Pink  of  Mili 
tary  Propriety,  and  if  Victor  led  the 
64 


Papa  Bouchard 

larky  life  you  so  unjustly  suspect  him 
of,  he  could  n't  be  friends  with  Major 
Falliere,  who  is  positively  straitlaced." 

"  I  can't  say  I  ever  saw  a  really 
straitlaced  major,"  replied  Papa  Bou 
chard. 

"  And  I  have  not  yet  seen  this  dear 
old  P.  M.  P.  He  was  in  Algiers  when 
Victor  and  I  were  married  —  and  he 
has  been  so  little  in  Paris  since  his  re 
turn  that  he  has  not  yet  had  a  chance 
to  call.  But  he  has  sent  me  word  by 
Victor  that  he  already  loves  me,  and  I 
hope  to  see  him  in  a  few  days,  for  Vic 
tor  has  promised  to  let  me  come  out  to 
Melun  and  dine  at  the  Pigeon  House." 

"  The  Pigeon  House  !  " 

"  Yes.  Why  not  ?  You  '11  be  going 
there  yourself,  I  dare  say,  now  that  you 
have  eloped  from  Aunt  Celeste.  Oh, 
you  '11  be  a  desperate  character  in  time, 
I  have  no  doubt.  I  see  it  in  your  eye. 
Victor  and  I,  though,  shall  keep  watch 
on  you,  if  you  go  too  far  and  too 
fast  !  " 

5  65 


Papa  Bouchard 

This  was  a  nice  way  for  a  ward  to 
talk  to  her  trustee  —  and  such  a  trustee 
as  Monsieur  Bouchard  !  Therefore 
Papa  Bouchard  called  up  his  most 
resolute  air  of  disapproval,  and  said  : 

"  I  am  afraid  the  Pigeon  House  is 
hardly  a  proper  place  for  you  to  go  to, 
Leontine." 

"  If  I  thought  that  I  should  have 
been  out  there  long  ago,"  responded 
this  sprightly  imp.  u  But,  unluckily, 
it 's  perfectly  proper." 

"  I  wish,"  replied  Papa  Bouchard, 
"you  could  get  one  single  serious  idea 
into  that  head  of  yours." 

"  I  have  a  great  many  serious  ideas," 
said  Leontine,  suddenly  assuming  an 
unwonted  air  of  gravity,  and  leaving 
her  perch  on  the  arm  of  Papa  Bou 
chard's  chair  for  a  seat  directly  facing 
him.  "  What  would  you  say  if  I  told 
you  that  I  am  taking  a  deep  and  real 
interest  in  practical  sociological  ques 
tions,  such  as  giving  employment  to 
the  deserving  workers  ?  " 
66 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  I  should  say  you  were  at  least  reach 
ing  the  development  I  have  always 
wished  for  you.  But  I  hope  you  are 
confining  your  experiments  to  giving 
work  only.  The  mere  giving  of  money 
tends  to  pauperize.  The  giving  of 
work  is  the  intelligent  mode  of  benefit 
ing  a  man  or  a  woman." 

"That 's  it  precisely,"  cried  Leontine, 
instantly  losing  her  air  of  gravity,  and 
jumping  up  to  kiss  the  bald  spot  on  the 
top  of  Papa  Bouchard's  head.  Then 
she  resumed  her  chair  and  her  serious 
manner  simultaneously.  u  That 's  what 
I  knew  you  'd  say,  dear  Papa  Bouchard. 
I  had  your  approval  in  mind  all  the 
time.  It  came  about  in  this  way,"  con 
tinued  Leontine,  solemnly.  "  There 
is  a  very  worthy  man  — a  Pole,  Putzki 
by  name — who  is  one  of  the  best 
tailors  in  Paris.  I  became  very  much 
interested  in  this  man  ;  likewise  in  his 
jackets,  coats  and  riding  habits.  I  have 
been  to  his  shop  several  times  and 
talked  with  him.  The  man  is  an  exile 
67 


Papa  Bouchard 

from  his  native  country.  How  sad 
that  is  !  And  he  cannot  go  back.  He 
is  very  deserving  and  has  a  family  to 
support.  He  does  n't  ask  for  charity, 
but  I  gave  him " 

u  All  the  money  you  had,"  hastily  and 
angrily  interjected  Papa  Bouchard. 

u  Not  at  all,"  replied  Leontine,  with 
dignity.  "  I  had  learned  better  than 
that.  I  have  not  given  him  a  franc. 
But  I  ordered,  out  of  pure  charity  and 
good  will  to  a  fellow  creature,  five 
walking  gowns,  three  jackets,  two  long 
coats,  a  yachting  costume  and  a  couple 
of  riding  habits." 

Papa  Bouchard's  mouth  opened  wide, 
but  no  sound  came  forth.  Leontine, 
taking  advantage  of  his  amazed  silence, 
kept  on,  rapidly  : 

"  Then  there    is    another   deserving 

D 

case  —  Louise,  a  milliner  and  modiste. 
She  has  a  husband  who  squanders  her 
money  on  his  pleasures.  If  Victor  did 
that  I  think  it  would  kill  me.  Like 
Putzki  she  does  not  ask  money,  but 
68 


Papa  Bouchard 

work.  Out  of  sympathy  for  her,  I 
have  had  her  make  me  four  ball  gowns, 
nine  .visiting  and  house  costumes,  some 
little  negligees  and  things,  and  about 
eighteen  hats.  And  here  are  the 
bills." 

With  this  Leontine  drew  out  two 
huge  bills  and  thrust  them  into  Papa 
Bouchard's  scowling  face.  Not  only 
was  he  annoyed  with  Leontine  for  her 
extravagance,  but  he  was  conscious  that 
she  had  fooled  him.  He  sat  perfectly 
still  and  silent,  glaring  into  Leontine's 
serious,  pretty  countenance  —  not  so 
serious,  though,  but  that  Papa  Bou 
chard  saw  the  shadow  of  a  smile  on  her 
rose-lipped  mouth. 

"And  you  expect  to  pay  those  bills 
out  of  your  allowance,  I  presume  ?  " 
said  Papa  Bouchard,  sarcastically,  after 
a  moment. 

"  You  flatter  me,"  replied  Leontine. 
u  I  always  knew  I  was  a  good  finan 
cier,  but  to  expect  me  to  pay  such  bills 
as  these  out  of  my  meagre  allowance  is 
69 


Papa  Bouchard 

to  credit  me  with  the  financial  genius 
of  a  Rothschild." 

"  Then  they  will  go  unpaid  !  "  cried 
Papa  Bouchard,  determinedly.  This 
assault  on  him,  following  hard  on 
Captain  de  Meneval's,  was  rather  more 
than  he  could  stand.  Leontine  did 
not  know  it,  but  the  defeat  Papa  Bou 
chard  had  just  suffered  at  the  hands  of 
that  good-looking  scapegrace,  her  hus 
band,  had  hardened  his  heart  against 
her  and  her  milliner's  and  tailor's  bills. 
However,  she  was  not  easily  frightened. 
She  only  tapped  her  little  foot,  smiled 
loftily  and  said : 

"  But  they  must  be  paid!  " 

Papa  Bouchard,  who  had  no  more 
voice  than  a  crow,  began  to  hum  a 
tune  and  to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  a 
scientific  journal  that  lay  on  the  table 
before  him.  A  pause  followed.  Then 
Leontine  said  again,  very  softly  and 
very  determinedly  : 

"  And  they  will  be  paid." 

"  How,  may  I  ask  ?  "  inquired  Papa 
70 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard,  whirling  round  on  her. 
Leontine,  throwing  aside  her  chiffon 
scarf,  which  she  had  held  round  her 
bare,  white  neck,  showed  a  string  of 
diamonds,  as  she  thought  them  to  be  — 
paste,  Papa  Bouchard  knew  them  to  be 
—  and  said: 

"  My  wedding  gift  from  Victor.  They 
are  worth  forty  thousand  francs.  I  can 
easily  raise  ten  thousand  on  them." 

Papa  Bouchard  lay  back  in  his  chair, 
absolutely  stunned.  So,  both  of  them 
were  for  turning  the  necklace  into 
cash !  And  what  scandal  would  be 
precipitated  if  Leontine  carried  out 
her  intention  !  The  necklace  would 
be  discovered  to  be  paste,  and  Leon- 
tine  would  naturally  be  deeply  incensed 
against  her  husband ;  Papa  Bouchard 
was  that  already,  but  he  really  loved 
his  little  Leontine,  and  the  thought  of 
trouble  between  her  and  her  husband 
disturbed  him. 

"  Does  Captain  de  Meneval  know 
of  these  bills?"  he  asked,  significantly. 


Papa  Bouchard 

Leontine  hung  her  head.  "  No," 
she  faltered,  "  and  that  is  the  part 
which  distresses  me.  Victor  has  been 
so  very  prudent  —  has  no  bills,  poor 
fellow  —  he  has  no  amusements  away 
from  me  —  and  I  — I  have  been  so  self- 


f/l 


ish  -  Leontine's  eyes  were  bright 
with  tears. 

u  Don't  make  yourself  unhappy 
about  Victor  being  too  prudent.  He 
need  never  give  you  any  anxiety  on 
that  point,"  was  Papa  Bouchard's  un 
feeling  reply. 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  Papa 
72 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard,  who  had  a  shrewd  head  for 
business,  was  rapidly  cogitating  the  best 
thing  to  do  under  the  circumstances. 
Leontine,  who  had  no  head  for  busi 
ness  at  all,  was  wondering  how  she 
could  keep  Victor  from  noticing  the 
absence  of  the  necklace.  She  had  just 
concluded  to  fall  into  a  state  of  great 
weakness  and  prostration,  thus  prevent 
ing  her  from  going  into  society,  when 
she  received  something  like  a  galvanic 
shock,  for  there,  before  her  eyes,  Papa 
Bouchard  was  holding  up  the  exact 
counterpart  of  her  necklace.  The  two 
necklaces  made  a  blaze  of  light. 

u  Where  did  you  get  it  ? "  she  gasped, 
pointing  to  the  glittering  thing  in  Papa 
Bouchard's  hand. 

Now,  Papa  Bouchard  was  a  clever 
man,  as  men  are  clever,  but  he  was 
not  so  clever  as  a  woman.  A  brilliant 
scheme  had  flashed  into  his  mind — he 
would  produce  the  real  necklace,  tell 
Leontine  it  was  paste,  and  so  make 
sure  that  she  would  not  take  it  to  the 
73 


Papa  Bouchard 

pawnbroker ;  and  he  could  manage  both 
de  Meneval  and  Leontine  equally  well 
with  the  paste  necklace.  He  did  not 
much  fancy  having  the  responsibility 
of  so  many  diamonds  as  the  real  one 
contained.  But  he  had  not  foreseen 
this  direct  and  embarrassing  question  of 
Leontine's.  He  looked  blank  for  a 
moment  or  two,  and  then,  having  no 
better  answer  ready,  replied  testily  : 

"I  wish  you  wouldn't  ask  such  ques 
tions,  Leontine.  Of  course  I  came 
by  it  honestly." 

"Of  course — of  course,"  cried  Leon- 
tine,  jumping  up.  u  Does  Aunt  Ce 
leste  know  of  this?" 

«N— n— no,"  faltered  Papa  Bou 
chard.  This  was  another  facer  for 
him. 

Leontine  had  not  the  slightest  doubt 
that  Papa  Bouchard  could  give  a  per 
fectly  rational  and  correct  account  of 
how  he  came  by  the  necklace  —  it  was 
probably  the  property  of  some  client  — 
but  seeing  a  fine  chance  to  hold  Papa 
74 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard  up  to  obloquy  and  to  lecture 
him,  she  promptly  determined  to  give 
him  the  benefit  of  her  pretended  sus 
picions.  She  therefore  rose  with  great 
dignity,  gathered  her  drapery  about  her, 
and  looking  significantly  at  Papa  Bou 
chard,  said  : 

uYou  will  pardon  me  for  saying  that 
this  has  a  most  singular  appearance, 
and  I  shall  lose  no  time  in  informing 
Aunt  Celeste." 

Papa  Bouchard  turned  pale.  Was 
ever  such  a  diabolical  trap  laid  for  an 
innocent  man  ?  He  was  not  at  all 
sure,  if  he  gave  the  true  account  of 
how  he  came  by  the  stones,  that  Cap 
tain  de  Meneval  would  not  carry  out 
his  threat  and  deny  the  whole  business. 
The  fellow  had  actually  laughed  while 
he  was  making  the  threat,  and  seemed 
to  regard  it  as  an  excellent  joke  to  im 
pair  the  peace  and  honor  of  a  respect 
able  elderly  gentleman.  Papa  Bouchard 
got  up,  sat  down  again,  and  groaned. 

"  Leontine,"  he  said,  to  that  pro- 
75 


Papa  Bouchard 

fessedly  indignant  young  woman,  "  you 
don't  understand." 

"  No,  I  don't  understand,"  replied 
Leontine,  with  unkind  emphasis. 

"  It  was  this  way  —  I  was  out  at  St. 
Germains  the  other  day  — "  Papa 
Bouchard  was  floundering  hopelessly, 
but  a  bright  thought  struck  him  — 
"  the  day  of  the  meeting  of  the  Society 
of  French  Antiquarians.  Very  interest 
ing  time  we  had  —  several  specimens 
of  the  paleozoic  age  were  found " 

"  And  this  match  to  my  necklace 
was  among  them  ?  Fie,  Papa  Bou 
chard  !  " 

"  Not  at  all.  Will  you  let  me 
speak  ?  I  say  I  was  out  at  St.  Ger 
mains  for  the  meeting  of  the  Society  of 
French  Antiquarians.  The  curator  of 
the  museum  is  a  great  friend  of  mine  — 
he  has  an  old  mother  —  finest  old  lady 
you  ever  saw  —  eighty  years  old,  bed 
ridden  and  stone  blind,  but  as  young  as 
a  daisy,  full  of  life  and  talk  —  it's  a 
treat  to  see  her.  My  friend  wanted  a 

76 


Papa  Bouchard 

birthday  present  for  her,  and  I  had  seen 
this  necklace  in  a  shop  window  in  the 
Avenue  de  1'Opera —  and  I  proposed 
to  —  to  —  to  —  "  Papa  Bouchard  fal 
tered. 

"  Buy  it  for  an  old  lady,  eighty  years 
old  and  bedridden  ?  Oh,  Papa  Bou 
chard,  try  again  !  " 

"  Leontine,"  said  Papa  Bouchard, 
sternly,  "I  don't  like  these  flippant  in 
terruptions.  I  did  not  say  —  I  never 
meant  to  say  that  I  proposed  to  buy 
a  diamond  necklace  for  an  old  lady, 
bedridden  and  eighty  years  of  age. 
It  happened  there  were  spectacles 
of  all  kinds  made  and  kept  at  the 
same  shop  —  and  I  went  and  got  a 
pair  of  Scotch  pebble  glasses,  at  fifty 
francs " 

u  But  you  said  she  was  stone 
blind  ?  " 

"What    if  I   did?      I    didn't    say    I 

got  the  glasses  for  her.      But  as  I  see 

you  won't  let  me  tell  you  the  story  of 

the  necklace,  I  shall  simply  keep  it  to 

77 


Papa  Bouchard 

myself.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  they  are 
not  diamonds,  they  are  paste." 

Leontine,  taking  the  real  stones  in 
her  hand,  examined  them  carefully. 
Then,  laying  them  against  the  necklace 
around  her  own  milk-white  throat,  she 
remarked  :  u  I  see  they  are.  Paste,  pure 
and  simple." 

Papa  Bouchard  could  hardly  suppress 
a  smile  at  this,  but  he  did. 

"  Very  well.  They  are  paste,  and 
they  cost  seventy-five  francs.  Now,  I 
will  make  you  a  proposition.  I  pro 
pose  that  I  shall  look  into  these  bills 
and  see  what  arrangement  can  be  made 
with  Putzki  and  Louise,  and  reach 
some  basis  of  settlement  whereby  I 
may  be  able,  by  making  a  series  of 
small  payments  out  of  your  income,  to 
get  rid  of  them.  Meanwhile,  I  am 
afraid  to  trust  you  with  your  own 
necklace — you  will  always  be  trying 
to  raise  money  on  it.  So  I  shall  hand 
you  over  this  paste  one,  which  no  one 
but  a  jeweller  can  tell  from  the  real 


Papa  Bouchard 

one.  You  will  give  me  the  real  one 
-  and  I  will  hold  it  until  your  bills 
are  paid.  Then  I  will  return  it  to 
you.  I  suppose  you  don't  wish  your 
husband  to  know  of  this,  and  I  will 
agree  to  keep  it  from  him  as  long  as 
you  keep  out  of  debt.  But  if  you  ever 
transgress  in  this  way  again  I  shall  tell 
him  the  whole  story." 

Leontine  listened  to  this  with  the 
utmost  gravity,  and  then  replied : 
u  You  are  a  very  clever  man,  Papa 
Bouchard,  but  you  will  find  your  little 
Leontine  a  very  clever  woman  —  too 
clever  to  put  her  head  in  the  noose 
you  have  so  kindly  held  open  for  her. 
I  sha'n't  dream  of  giving  up  my  neck 
lace  for  anything  less  than  a  cheque 
out  of  my  own  money  for  the  payment 
in  full  of  these  bills.  I  should  be  wil 
ling  to  take  the  paste  necklace  tempo 
rarily  until  the  bills  are  paid.  After 
you  have  returned  it  to  me  I  sha'n't 
be  in  the  least  afraid  of  your  telling 
Victor,  for  if  you  do  I  shall  tell  Aunt 
79 


Papa  Bouchard 

Celeste  all  your  tales  about  the  bed 
ridden  old  lady  and  the  trip  to  St.  Ger- 
mains  and  the  widow " 

"  What  widow  ?  "  asked  Papa  Bou 
chard,  forgetful  for  a  moment  of  the 
lady  he  had  met  in  the  railway  carriage 
two  days  in  succession. 

"  The  prim  little  widow  you  went 
to  Verneuil  with.  My  maid  happened 
to  be  on  the  same  train  and  saw  you 
helping  her  out,  and  heard  you  say.  to 
her  you  were  going  to  St.  Germains  to 
day  —  and  by  the  way,  I  happen  to  know 
you  did  go  to  St.  Germains  to-day." 

What  a  story  was  this  to  hatch  about 
the  most  correct  old  gentleman  in 

O 

Paris !  Papa  Bouchard  simply  glared 
at  Leontine,  but  that  merry  young 
woman  was  smiling  and  dimpling,  as  if 
debts  and  duns  and  trips  to  Verneuil 
and  diamond  necklaces  were  quite  the 
ordinary  ingredients  of  life.  The  hen 
that  hatched  a  cockatrice  was  no  more 
puzzled  and  dismayed  than  was  Papa 
Bouchard  at  the  vagaries  of  his  ward. 
80 


Papa  Bouchard 

u  Well,"  cried  he,  after  a  pause,  de 
termined  to  put  a  bold  front  on  the 
matter,  "  what  if  I  did  find  a  lady  in 
the  same  railway  carriage  with  me, 
going  to  Verneuil  ?  I  had  n't  hired 
the  whole  train,  or  even  a  whole  car 
riage.  And  what  if  she  was  a  widow, 
and  good-looking !  And  suppose  to 
day,  in  the  pursuit  of  science,  I  go  to 
St.  Germains  and  quite  by  accident  I 
find  the  same  lady  in  the  compartment 
with  me  ?  What  does  that  mean  ex 
cept  a  series  of  accidents  ?  " 

"  Yes,  a  series  of  accidents,"  replied 
Leontine,  with  an  arch  glance.  The 
minx  seemed  to  have  no  more  con 
science  about  teasing  poor  Papa  Bou 
chard  than  had  her  rattlebrain  of  a 
husband.  u  It  is  remarkable  that  acci 
dents  like  these  always  happen  in 
cycles.  I  should  be  willing  to  wager 
that  a  third  accident  is  now  brewing, 
and  you  will  see  that  prim  little  widow 
again  before  the  week  is  out.  I 
should  n't  be  surprised  if  this  change 
6  81 


Papa  Bouchard 

of  quarters  had  something  to  do  with 
it!" 

"  Leontine  !  "  said  Papa  Bouchard, 
indignantly,  but  that  heedless  young 
person  only  laughed  and  said  : 

"  I  '11  tell  Victor  that.  How  the 
dear  boy  will  laugh  !  The  fact  is,  I 
don't  know  whether  I  can  let  Victor 
associate  with  you  or  not  —  you  might 
lead  him  off  into  your  own  primrose 
path  of  dalliance  with  widows  !  " 

Was  ever  anything  so  exasperating  ! 
Papa  Bouchard  ground  his  teeth  —  he 
had  a  great  mind  to  throw  over  the 
whole  business  of  Leontine's  money  and 
her  affairs,  only  he  knew  it  would  please 
her  too  well.  His  grim  meditations 
were  interrupted  by  Leontine  tapping 
him  on  the  shoulder  and  saying,  u  Now, 
will  you  hand  me  over  the  cheque  for 
the  whole  amount  of  those  bills  —  six 
thousand  francs  —  or  must  I  take  this" 
—  touching  the  paste  necklace  round 
her  throat  —  "  to  the  pawnbroker  ?  " 

"You  certainly  can't  expect  me  to 
82 


Papa  Bouchard 

give  you  a  cheque  until  I  have  looked 
into  these  swindling  bills,"  answered 
Papa  Bouchard. 

u  I  certainly  do,"  tartly  said  Leon- 
tine,  "  and  you  will  either  hand  me 
over  immediately  a  cheque  for  six  thou 
sand  francs,  or  I  will  drive  to  Aunt 
Celeste's  before  I  go  to  the  opera  —  and 
I  think  you  '11  have  an  early  visit  from 
her  in  the  morning.  I  shall  tell  her 
about  this  mysterious  necklace,  and 
the  pretty  widow  you  have  no  doubt 
been  running  after  for  at  least  six 
months " 

"  I  never  saw  her  in  my  life  until 
yesterday,"  cried  Monsieur  Bouchard. 

"  So  you  say.  Perhaps  you  have 
been  pursuing  her  for  a  year." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  tore  his  hair,  but 
there  was  no  help  for  him.  After  an 
angry  pause,  he  sat  down,  wrote  out 
a  cheque  for  six  thousand  francs,  which 
he  slammed  down  on  the  table,  and 
Leontine  picked  up  with  a  joyful  cry. 
And  then,  with  a  desperate  attempt 

83 


Papa  Bouchard 

at    an    authoritative    manner,    he    said, 
sternly, 

u  Pray  understand,  Leontine,  that  I 
reserve  the  right  to  tell  your  husband 
all  the  circumstances  of  this  affair  if  I 
choose  to.  I  am  not  intimidated  by 
your  threat  to  tell  my  sister  some  cock- 
and-bull  story  about  me." 

Leontine  reflected  a  moment,  her 
pretty  head  on  her  hand. 

"  Do  you  know,  dear  Papa  Bou 
chard,"  she  said,  after  a  while,  "  that 
you  and  I  are  engaged  in  what  the 
Americans  call  a  game  of  bluff?" 

"  Don't  know  anything  about  the 
Americans.  Don't  know  what  bluff  is." 

"Oh,  yes,  you  do  —  you  know  the 
thing,  although  you  may  not  recognize 
the  name.  But  you  are  a  good  soul, 
Papa  Bouchard,  and  Victor  and  I  do 
bother  you  a  good  deal ;  but  only  say 
no  more  of  this  matter  —  about  Putzki 
and  Louise  —  and  don't  tell  Victor,  and 
I  '11  not  tell  Aunt  Celeste,  and  every 
thing  will  come  perfectly  right." 
84 


Papa  Bouchard 

As  Leontine  spoke  she  unclasped  her 
necklace,  kissed  it,  and  with  a  gesture 
of  scorn  put  on  the  real  necklace,  say 
ing  to  herself:  "I  never  thought  I 
should  come  to  this." 

And  then  came  a  loud  rat-tat  at  the 
door,  and  in  walked  Captain  de  Mene- 
val  again.  He  carried  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  impedimenta,  with  which  he 
had  so  unceremoniously  made  off.  Both 
he  and  Leontine  looked  thoroughly  dis 
concerted  at  meeting  each  other.  De 
Meneval  thought  she  had  gone  away. 
Leontine  blushed  guiltily,  and  had 
barely  enough  presence  of  mind  to 
cover  up  the  necklace  lying  on  the 
table  with  Papa  Bouchard's  scientific 
journal. 

"Ah,  good-evening,  Papa  Bouchard  !  " 
cried  this  arch  hypocrite  of  an  artillery 
captain,  as  if  he  had  not  seen  Monsieur 
Bouchard  half  an  hour  before.  "  I 
came  to  return  your  umbrella  and  coat. 
Thanks  very  much  for  lending  them  to 
me  in  an  emergency.  Why,  little  girl, 

85 


Papa  Bouchard 

I  thought  you  were  on  your  way  to  the 
opera?" 

"I  am  just  going,"  answered  Leon- 
tine,  moving  toward  the  door. 

"  One  moment  !  "  cried  Papa  Bou 
chard,  waving  his  arm  authoritatively. 
These  two  scapegraces  had  used  him 
for  their  own  purposes  that  night,  had 
made  game  of  him,  and  had  threatened 
^to  discover  a  mare's  nest  to  Mademoi 
selle  Bouchard  and  had  got  seven  thou 
sand  francs  out  of  him  in  cold  cash. 
Now,  however,  he  would  take  his 
revenge.  "Wait,"  he  said  to  Leon- 
tine,  who  returned  reluctantly  to  her 
former  place. 

Monsieur  Bouchard,  assuming  the 
attitude  and  tone  with  which  he  ad 
dressed  a  couple  of  criminals  in  the 
pursuit  of  his  professional  duties,  then 
continued  : 

"  This  is  a  very  auspicious  oppor 
tunity  for  me  to  speak  to  you  both,  in 
each  other's  presence,  with  a  view  to 
your  mutual  reform.  Observe  the 
86 


Papa  Bouchard 

word  ;  I  use  it  advisedly."  He  paused. 
Leontine  trembled  with  apprehension, 
while  de  Meneval  surreptitiously  mopped 
his  brow.  "  You  have  both  of  you 
been  very  extravagant  —  wasteful,  I 
may  say.  Nothing  that  I  have  yet 
said  has  availed  to  stop  the  outgo 
of  money  far  beyond  your  reasonable 
wants  —  so  /  think.  Now,  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  in  order 
for  you  to  economize  you  must  give 
up  your  apartment.  You  must  leave 
Paris." 

Leave  Paris  ! 

De  Meneval  was  not  so  stunned  but 
that  he  could  get  up  rather  a  ghastly 
laugh. 

"  Leave  Paris  !  Ha,  ha  !  That  's 
little  enough  to  me,  Papa  Bouchard  — 
Leontine  and  ballistics  are  all  I  want 
to  make  me  happy  anywhere  —  but 
Leontine  —  oh,  I  know  she  won't 
go!" 

"  Won't  she,  eh  ?  Not  to  an  inex 
pensive  little  cottage  outside  of  Paris 
87 


Papa  Bouchard 

—  within  striking  distance  of  Melun, 
so  you  may  go  back  and  forth  —  a  very 
inexpensive  cottage  ?  " 

u  Well,  if  that 's  your  game,"  cried 
de  Meneval,  savagely,  "  there  are 
plenty  of  cottages  to  be  had  at  Melun. 
Our  veterinarian  has  just  given  up  his 
cottage  —  three  rooms  and  a  dog  ken 
nel.  That  's  cheap  enough.  Shall  I 
take  it  to-morrow  for  Captain  and 
Madame  de  Meneval  ?  " 

"  You  are  trifling,  Monsieur  le  Cap- 
itaine,"  coolly  answered  Papa  Bou 
chard.  "  You  understand  perfectly 
well  what  I  mean." 

"  But,  Papa  Bouchard,"  put  in  Leon- 
tine,  faintly,  "  while  /  don't  object  to 
the  cottage,  it  would  be  cruel  to  Victor 
to  force  him  away  from  Paris.  It  is 
so  dull,  anyway,  at  Melun.  The  only 
recreation  he  has  is  when  he  comes  to 
Paris.  Poor,  poor  Victor  !  " 

Leontine   was    almost   weeping  —  de 
Meneval    was     swearing     between    his 
teeth.      Papa   Bouchard  was  waving  his 
88 


Papa  Bouchard 

arm  about,  serene   in  the  consciousness 
of  power. 

"  I  do  not  say  you  are  to  leave 
Paris  to-night,  or  even  to-morrow  ; 
perhaps  a  week  —  possibly  a  month  - 
may  be  given  you.  But  you  are  both 
too  fond  of  gaieties,  of  clothes,  of 
suppers  and  other  dissipated  things, 
and  there  are  too  many  jewellers'  shops 
in  Paris."  This  thrust  caused  both  of 
the  culprits  to  quake.  "  So  you  must 
go  to  some  retired  place  and  econo 
mize." 

"  I  see,"  replied  de  Meneval,  who 
was  thoroughly  exasperated.  u  Having 
yourself  practically  run  away  from  a 
quiet  and  respectable  locality  to  these 
gay  quarters,  with  young  ladies  of  the 
ballet  on  every  hand  — "  de  Meneval 
pointed  angrily  to  the  red-and-gold 
young  ladies  on  the  walls  —  "  now  you 
wish  to  send  my  poor  little  wife  off  to 
some  hole  of  a  village,  where  one  may 
exist  but  not  live.  I  don't  speak  of 
myself — /don't  care.  It's  for  her." 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Very  well,"  answered  Papa  Bou 
chard,  maliciously.  "  You  may  make 
that  hole  of  a  village  a  paradise  steeped 
in  dreamlike  splendor  to  Leontine  by 
your  devoted  and  lover-like  attentions 
to  her.  You  can  live  over  your  honey 
moon.  Won't  you  like  that,  Leon- 
tine  ?  " 

u  Y — yes,"  replied  Leontine,  dole 
fully. 

"  Some  pretty  rural  place  —  all  birds 
and  flowers,  eh?  And  a  little  dog. 
Doesn't  the  prospect  charm  you?" 

«  Yes  —  only  —  for  Victor " 

"  Have  n't  you  just  heard  Victor  say 
that  all  he  needs  to  be  perfectly  happy 
are  you  and  ballistics  ?  So  I  suppose, 
Monsieur  de  Meneval,  you  will  be  rev 
elling  in  rapture." 

"  I  suppose  so,"  replied  de  Meneval, 
gloomily.  "  Come,  Leontine,  shall  I 
put  you  in  the  carriage  ?  You  won't 
have  many  chances  of  going  to  the 
opera,  poor  child,  after  this." 

Leontine  rose  and  said,  coldly, 
90 


Papa  Bouchard 

"Good-night,  Papa  Bouchard."  There 
was  no  tweaking  of  his  ear,  no  patting 
of  his  bald  head  this  time.  They  went 


out    like    two    sulky    and    disappointed 
children. 

Papa  Bouchard  remained  chuckling 
to  himself.  He  had  those  two  naughty 
young  creatures  in  the  hollow  of  his 
hand —  it  would  be  a  good  while  before 
they  would  dare  to  be  saucy  to  him  — 
91 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  that  little  cottage  in  the  suburbs 
was  a  fine  idea.  Strange  it  had  not 
occurred  to  him  before. 

He  seated  himself  in  his  easychair 
and  began  to  review  the  events  of  his 
first  day  of  liberty.  His  mind  went 
back  to  the  point  where  he  had  been 
interrupted  by  de  Meneval's  entrance 
—  the  point  where  the  dear  little  bash 
ful  widow  had  appeared  in  his  mind's 
eye.  If  he  had  been  in  the  Rue  Cla- 
risse  he  would  never  even  have  dared 
to  think  of  Madame  Vernet,  for  his 
sister  could  actually  read  his  thoughts. 
But  here,  in  this  jolly  bachelor  place, 
he  could  think  about  widows  all  he 
liked.  And  shutting  his  eyes  the  better 
to  recall  that  slim,  shrinking,  gray- 
gowned  figure,  he  opened  them  to  see 
Madame  Vernet  quietly  walking  into 
the  room,  without  knocking  and  quite 
as  if  she  belonged  there.  She  advanced 
to  the  table  on  one  side  of  the  room, 
laid  her  lace  parasol  on  it  and  pro 
ceeded  to  remove  her  long  gloves,  but 
92 


Papa  Bouchard 

stopped  in  the  midst  of  the  process  to 
rearrange  a  chair  and  to  set  straight  a 
picture  —  one  of  Monsieur  Bouchard's. 

"  This  is  very  comfortable,"  she  said, 
musingly,  "but  I  can  improve  it  —  when 
I  am  settled  here." 

Papa  Bouchard  listened  as  if  in  a 
dream.  He  had  not  progressed  so  far 
as  that.  And  then  Madame  Vernet 
turning  and  seeing  him,  uttered  a  faint 
shriek,  as  if  she  had  seen  a  snake  in 
stead  of  a  human  being,  and  ran — but 
not  toward  the  door. 

"  My  dear  Madame  Vernet,  pray  do 
not  be  alarmed.  It  is  only  I  —  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,"  cried  Papa  Bouchard, 
striving  to  reassure  her. 

"Oh!  is  it  you?  Forgive  me  for 
being  so  agitated,  but  I  am  so  easily 
frightened  !  "  panted  Madame  Vernet. 
"  Men  always  frighten  me —  I  am  the 
most  timid  woman  in  the  world  !  " 

"  So  I  see,"  tenderly  replied  Papa 
Bouchard.  He  was  standing  quite  close 
to  Madame  Vernet  now,  and  she  had 
93 


Papa  Bouchard 

clasped  his  arm  and  looked  nervously 
about  her,  as  if  she  expected  another 
man  to  spring  out  of  the  fireplace  or 
down  from  the  ceiling. 

"  But  when  I  saw  it  was  only  you, 
all  my  fears  vanished,"  she  continued. 
u  And  will  you  tell  me  to  what  I  am 
indebted  for  the  honor  and  pleasure  of 
this  visit  ?  " 

"A  question  I  was  just  asking  my 
self.  This  is  my  new  apartment." 

"I  beg  pardon,"  replied  Madame 
Vernet,  "  but  it  is  my  new  apartment. 
I  only  moved  into  it  to-day." 

"And,  Madame,  I  only  moved  into 
it  to-day." 

"  It  is  number  nine,  fourth  floor." 

"  No,  Madame,  it  is  number  five, 
third  floor." 

u  Ah,"  cried  Madame  Vernet.  "  I 
see.  My  apartment  is  directly  over 
this,  and  corresponds  with  it  exactly. 
I  did  not  go  up  high  enough,  and  I  am 
not  quite  familiar  with  the  surround 
ings.  How  absurd  !  "  and  she  laughed, 
94 


Papa  Bouchard 

showing     the    prettiest     teeth     in     the 
world. 

"  How  delightful!  "  replied  Monsieur 
Bouchard,  gallantly. 

"  And  how  singular  !  This  is  the 
third  time  in  three  days  we  have  met 
by  accident." 

An  uncomfortable  recollection  of 
Leontine's  speech  about  accidents  of 
this  sort  occurring  in  cycles  flashed 
through  Monsieur  Bouchard's  brain, 
but  he  dismissed  the  thought  with 
energy.  He  rather  relished  accidents 
that  brought  about  meetings  with  a 
woman  as  winning,  as  charming,  as 
elegant  as  Madame  Vernet ;  and  then 
there  was  that  deliciously  intoxicating 
feeling  of  independence  —  no  need  to 
cut  the  interview  short,  no  labored  ex 
planation  to  give  Mademoiselle  Celeste. 
Monsieur  Bouchard  was  his  own  man 
now  —  for  the  first  time,  at  fifty-four 
years  of  age.  So  he  smiled  benevo 
lently,  and  said  : 

u  I    wish    I    might    ask    you    to    sit 
95 


Papa  Bouchard 

down,  but  at  least  you  will  grant  me 
permission  to  call  on  you." 

"  With  pleasure,"  replied  Madame 
Vernet.  "  And  since  you  won't  let  me 
sit  down —  which,  of  course,  would  n't 
be  proper,  and  I  would  n't  commit  the 
smallest  impropriety  for  a  million  francs 
—  at  least  let  me  walk  about  and  look 
at  your  charming  furnishings." 

Papa  Bouchard  made  a  heartfelt 
apology  for  the  red-and-gold  young 
ladies  on  the  walls,  who  evidently 
shocked  Madame  Vernet  extremely. 
He  said  he  meant  to  take  them  down 
the  next  day.  Madame  Vernet  replied 
with  gentle  seventy  that  he  ought  to 
take  them  down  that  night.  However, 
she  went  into  raptures  over  "  Kittens 
at  Play  "  and  u  Socrates  and  His  Pupils," 
which  gave  Papa  Bouchard  a  high  idea 
of  her  intellectuality. 

But  in  the  midst  of  a  learned  disser 
tation  on  u  The  Coliseum  by  Moon 
light  "  Madame  Vernet's  eyes  fell  on 
the  glittering  paste  necklace,  which 


Papa  Bouchard 

Monsieur  Bouchard  had  left  lying  on 
the  table.  She  picked  it  up  gently  — 
she  did  everything  gently  —  and  play 
fully  clasping  it  round  her  neck,  cried  : 

"  How  charming  !  I  won't  ask  you 
for  whom  this  is  intended  ;  for  a  sister 
-  a  niece,  perhaps.  Lucky  girl !  " 

u  Indeed,  it  is  not  intended  for  any 
one,"  replied  Monsieur  Bouchard.  "It 
is  of  trifling  value —  paste,  at  seventy- 
five  francs  to  buy,  and  would  sell  for 
nothing." 

"  Nevertheless,  it  is  very  pretty," 
said  Madame  Vernet,  looking  at  herself 
coquettishly  in  the  mirror.  And  then, 
apparently  forgetting  all  about  the  neck 
lace,  she  confided  to  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  that  she  was  so  nervous  at  living 
alone  —  the  only  thing  that  reconciled 
her  was  that  she  had  an  uncle  and  an 
aunt  living  in  the  neighborhood  who 
would  watch  over  her.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  tried  to  reassure  her,  but  Madame 
Vernet  declined  to  be  reassured.  Her 
timidity  was  constitutional  — she  should 
7  97 


Papa  Bouchard 

never  be  courageous  as  other  women, 
and  so  protesting,  she  gathered  up  her 
parasol  and  gloves,  and  with  blushing 
apologies  for  her  intrusion  and  a  bash- 


ful  invitation  to  Monsieur  Bouchard  to 
return  her  unique  visit,  made  for  the 
door. 

Monsieur    Bouchard    was    charmed, 
flattered,  tickled   and   flustered  beyond 


Papa  Bouchard 

expression,  but  he  was  likewise  terrified 
at  the  thought  that  Madame  Vernet  had 
evidently  forgotten  that  she  had  the 
necklace  clasped  round  her  throat  and 
was  going  off  with  it.  Paste  though  it 
was,  Monsieur  Bouchard  had  no  mind 
to  let  it  go  out  of  his  own  hands. 
He  followed  her  to  the  door,  saying, 
"  Madame,  you  have  probably  for 
gotten  * 

"  Oh,  no,  I  haven't,"  smilingly  re 
plied  Madame  Vernet  ;  u  I  know  my 
own  apartment  now  —  it  is  number 
nine." 

"  But  —  but  — you  have  inadvertently 
—  er  —  a  —  "  Poor  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  mopped  his  forehead  in  his 
agony. 

"  Yes,  quite  inadvertently  entered 
your  apartment.  Oh,  how  alarmed  I 
was  when  I  first  saw  you  !  But  you 
were  so  kind.  Forgive  me,  and  don't 
forget  your  promise  to  call.  Good 
bye." 

And  just  as  Monsieur  Bouchard  had 
99 


Papa  Bouchard 

made  up  his  mind  to  ask   for  the  neck 
lace  she  flitted  out  of  the  door. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  sank,  or  rather 
fell,  into  a  chair.  His  head  was  in  a 
whirl.  He  felt  as  if  the 
events  of  that  day  were 
beginning  to  be  a  little 
too  much  for  him.  Just 
at  that  moment  Pierre  ap 
peared  from  no  one  could 
exactly  say  where. 

"  Come,  now,"  said  that 
functionary,  in  a  tone  of 
what  Monsieur  Bouchard 
would  have  thought  brazen  familiarity 
the  day  before,  "  I  know  all  about  it, 
I  saw  the  whole  transaction ;  remem 
ber,  Monsieur,  we  are  pals  now.  She 
can't  get  money  on  it  any  more  than 
Madame  de  Meneval  can,  and  she'll 
be  sure  to  turn  up  again.  Oh,  you  '11 
come  out  all  right,  Monsieur.  Cheer 
up.  We'll  live  a  merry  life,  and 
after  all,  it  is  something  to  be  away 
from  that  dreary  old  hole  in  the 
100 


Papa  B0,u<v!ia^d 

Rue  Clarisse.  Just  listen,  if  you 
please." 

Pierre  ran  to  the  window,  threw  it 
wide  open,  and  the  strains  of  rag  time 
music  from  the  music  halls  filled  the 
room. 

"  Everything  goes  in  rag  time  at  this 
jolly  place,"  cried  Pierre — and  then 
that  staid,  sober  and  decorous  valet  of 
thirty  years'  service,  cut  the  pigeon 
wing,  twirled  around  on  one  leg,  with 
the  other  stuck  stiffly  out  like  a  ballet 
dancer's,  and  kissing  his  hand  in  the 
direction  of  Madame  Vernet's  apart 
ment,  cried,  "  Oh,  we  're  a  gay  pair  of 
boys  !  We  mean  to  see  life!  And  no 
peaching  on  each  other!"  And  with 
ineffable  impudence,  he  winked  at 
Monsieur  Bouchard. 


101 


Chapter  II 

MONSIEUR  BOUCHARD 
waked  next  morning  with  a 
delicious  sense  of  youth  and  irrespon 
sibility.  There  was  no  one  to  demand 
an  account  of  him  for  anything.  As 
for  Pierre,  Monsieur  Bouchard  deter 
mined  to  treat  his  vagaries  in  a  jocular 
manner  —  it  was  simply  the  honest 
fellow's  way  of  showing  joy  at  his 
emancipation.  And  when  Pierre  ap 
peared,  to  shave  his  master,  both  of 
them  wore  a  cheerful  air.  It  was  their 
I4th  of  July. 

Pierre,  at  the  same  time  he  brought 
the  hot  water,  brought  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  letters.  What  a  comfort  to 
read  them  without  having  to  give  an 
explanation  of  every  one  to  Made- 
102 


Papa  Bouchard 

moiselle  Celeste  !  Monsieur  Bouchard 
actually  enjoyed  receiving  his  tailor's 
bill  for  the  half-year  under  those  cir 
cumstances.  As  for  Pierre,  he  went 
about  whistling  like  a  whole  flock  of 
blackbirds,  and  Monsieur  Bouchard  had 
not  the  heart  or  the  inclination  to  stop 
him.  The  only  fly  in  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  ointment  was  the  unpleasant 
reflection  that  Madame  Vernet  still  had 
the  paste  necklace,  but  he  felt  sure  that 
she  had  discovered  her  inadvertence  of 
the  night  before,  and  would  return  the 
thing  during  the  day. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Pierre,  who  seemed 
to  have  quite  taken  the  direction  of 
Monsieur  Bouchard's  affairs,  "  that 
Monsieur  will  be  looking  after  the  bills 
of  Captain  and  Madame  de  Meneval 
to-day." 

"  I  certainly  shall,"  replied  Monsieur 
Bouchard. 

u  And,  Monsieur,   you    will    find    it 
necessary    to    go    out     to    the    Pigeon 
House  at  Melun  to   settle  up  Monsieur 
103 


Papa  Bouchard 

le  Capitaine's  account  without  Madame 
finding  it  out  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  answered  Monsieur 
Bouchard.  "  It  is  a  nuisance  ;  I  never 
was  at  Melun  in  my  life." 

"But  that's  no  reason  why  Mon 
sieur  never  should  go  to  Melun  ;  and 
I've  been  told  that  the  Pigeon  House  is 
a  very  gay  place,  with  excellent  wine. 
Suppose  Monsieur  makes  an  evening 
of  it  out  there  ?  " 

"  Pierre,"  said  Monsieur  Bouchard, 
wheeling  around  on  him,  "  are  you 
trying  to  get  me  into  all  sorts  of  indis 
cretions  in  order  to  report  me  to  the 
Rue  Clarisse  ?  " 

"  Lord,  no,  sir ! "  replied  Pierre, 
with  much  readiness.  "  I  am  going 
to  the  Moulin  Rouge  myself  to-night, 
and  I  'm  sure  if  my  wife  knew  it  she 
would  take  not  only  my  hair,  but  my 
scalp  with  it,  off  my  head.  The 
Moulin  Rouge  is  a  harmless  enough 
place,  but  that 's  what 's  been  the  matter 
with  our  bringing  up,  Monsieur  —  we 
104 


Papa  Bouchard 

were  n't  allowed  to  go  to  harmless 
places  even.  For  my  part,  I  mean  to 
have  my  fling,  even  if  my  wife  does  find 
it  out,  and  disciplines  me.  But  there's 
no  reason  for  either  one  of  us  being 
found  out  if  we  '11  only  agree  to  stand 
by  each  other." 

This  was  very  satisfactory  ;  in  fact, 
everything  seemed  to  be  coming  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  way  except  —  the 
paste  necklace.  The  thought  of  that, 
like  the  ghost  at  Lady  Macbeth's  tea 
party,  would  not  down.  Monsieur 
Bouchard  waited  and  lingered  and  dal 
lied  over  his  breakfast,  and  yet  no  parcel 
came  from  Madame  Vernet.  He  did 
not  care  to  remain  at  home  all  day 
waiting  for  it ;  no  doubt  it  would  come. 
It  occurred  to  him  that  the  best  plan 
was  to  take  Pierre  completely  into  his 
confidence.  It  was  true  the  rascal 
knew  something  of  what  had  happened 
the  night  before,  but  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  felt  it  necessary,  in  Pierre's  new 
role  of  trusty  henchman  and  prime  min- 
I05 


Papa  Bouchard 

ister,  to  confide  all  the  particulars  to 
him.  However,  this  must  be  done 
in  a  manner  consistent  with  the  rela 
tions  of  master  and  man.  So,  when 
Pierre  was  handing  him  his  coat,  hat 
and  gloves,  preparatory  to  going  out, 
Monsieur  Bouchard  remarked,  quite 
casually,  as  if  Pierre  knew  nothing  of 
the  happenings  of  the  night  before  : 

"  By  the  way,  I  am  expecting  a  little 
parcel  to  be  sent  me  by  Madame  Ver- 
net,  the  lady  on  the  next  floor,  a  very 
pretty  little  woman  —  a  widow  — 

"  Trust  Monsieur  for  rinding  out  all 
the  pretty  little  widows  between  here 
and  the  Rue  Clarisse,"  replied  Pierre, 
with  the  impudent  grin  that  had  scarce 
left  his  face  since  he  established  him 
self  in  the  Rue  Bassano. 

Now,  this  remark  was  not  only 
grossly  familiar  but  grotesquely  untrue, 
so  Monsieur  Bouchard  frowned  and 
said,  sternly : 

"You  forget  yourself." 

"  And  all  the  pretty  little  widows 
106 


Papa  Bouchard 

will  have  an  eye  on  Monsieur,"  re 
plied  this  unabashed  reprobate  of  a 
Pierre. 

At  this  Monsieur  Bouchard  wished 
to  frown,  but  could  not.  Instead, 
his  mouth  came  open  in  a  pleased 
grin. 

"  Well,  well,  that  may  or  may  not 
be  true.  At  all  events,  last  night  Ma 
dame  Vernet,  by  the  merest  accident, 
came  into  this  apartment,  mistaking  it 
for  her  own."  Monsieur  Bouchard 
paused.  It  was  rather  a  difficult  story 
to  tell. 

"  By  accident,  did  you  say,  Mon 
sieur  ?  " 

"Altogether  by  accident.  A  paste 
necklace  belonging  to  Madame  de 
Meneval  was  lying  on  my  table,  and 
Madame  Vernet  inadvertently  carried 
it  off.  She  will  no  doubt  return  it 
this  morning.  Take  care  of  it  when 
it  comes." 

"  I  will,  sir,  if  it  comes.  But  Mon 
sieur  will  pardon  me  if  I  say  I  don't 
107 


Papa  Bouchard 

expect  it  to  come  —  that  is,  if  I  know 
anything  about  women." 

"  But  you  don't  know  anything  about 
women,"  curtly  replied  Monsieur  Bou 
chard.  Pierre  was  getting  quite  beside 
himself. 

"  True,  Monsieur.  I  have  been 
married  thirty  years.  That  is  enough  to 
convince  the  toughest  sceptic  who  ever 
lived  that  he  does  n't  know  anything 
about  women.  But,  all  the  same, 
Madame  Vernet  is  n't  going  to  send 
that  necklace  back." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  turned  pale  and 
took  an  agitated  turn  about  the  room. 

"  Did  Monsieur  buy  the  paste  neck 
lace  for  —  for  —  Mademoiselle  Bou 
chard  ? "  asked  Pierre. 

"  No,  you   idiot  !      Did  n't  I  tell  you 
it  belongs  to   Madame  de  Meneval  — 
no  —  to  Captain  de  Meneval  —  oh,  the 
devil  !  " 

Such    expletives    as    this    had     been 
strictly  forbidden   in  the   Rue   Clarisse, 
and  in  spite  of  his  annoyance  Monsieur 
1 08 


Papa  Bouchard 

Bouchard  felt  a  sense  of  pleasure  in 
being  able  to  call  on  the  devil  in  a 
casual  and  informal  manner. 

"  I  understand,  Monsieur,"  replied 
Pierre,  with  the  wink  that,  like  the 
grin,  appeared  to  have  become  consti 
tutional  with  him  since  his  advent  in 
the  Rue  Bassano.  u  The  accidental 
Madame  Vernet  appears  to  have  be 
come  accidentally  possessed  of  a  paste 
necklace  that  is  not  hers.  Accidents 
will  happen ;  but  one  accident  that  I 
am  sure  will  not  occur  is  the  return  of 
the  necklace." 

"  Damnation  !  "  roared  Monsieur 
Bouchard.  He  felt  a  delicious  relish 
in  saying  this  profane  word.  It  was 
the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  ever 
used  it. 

"  Very  well,  Monsieur.  Damnation 
or  no  damnation,  I  will  keep  the  neck 
lace  for  you  —  if  I  get  it." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  dashed  down 
the  stairs  faster  than  he  had  ever  done 
in  his  life  before.  But  on  reaching  the 
109 


Papa  Bouchard 

street  and  adopting  a  decorous  pace,  he 
thought,  "  Of  course  it 's  nonsense  to 
suppose  that  she  won't  return  it.  The 
fact  is,  I  have  got  to  discipline  that 
Pierre.  He  has  altogether  forgotten 
himself,  and  I  shall  have  to  teach  him 
a  few  lessons." 

Meanwhile,  in  the  gay  little  apart 
ment  in  the  Avenue  de  1'Imperatrice, 
where  the  de  Meneval  menage  was 
situated,  the  necklace  had  become  a 
haunting  ghost  as  well  as  in  the  Rue 
Bassano. 

As  Leontine  and  her  husband  sat 
opposite  each  other  at  breakfast  in  the 
pretty  little  salle  a  manger,  each  felt 
like  a  criminal.  It  was  a  very  pretty 
little  salle  a  manger — just  the  sort  of 
room  for  a  young  couple  with  a  modest 
income,  yet  sufficient  to  live  on.  But 
there  is  not  a  young  couple  in  exist 
ence  who,  knowing  that  their  income 
is  cut  exactly  in  half  while  the  other 
half  is  saved  up  for  them,  would  be 
satisfied  with  their  moiety.  This, 
no 


Papa  Bouchard 

however,  was  bliss  compared  to  the 
prospect  of  that  dreary  little  cottage  in 
the  country  to  which  Papa  Bouchard 
had  condemned  them  —  or  rather,  to 
which  they  had  condemned  each  other 


—  for  each  thought  secretly  that  but 
for  those  unlucky  debts  and  the  dia 
mond  necklace,  Papa  Bouchard  would 
never  have  been  so  hard  on  them. 
The  most  painful  part  of  it  was,  how 
ever,  the  necessity  of  concealment  each 
in 


Papa  Bouchard 

felt  toward  the  other.  They  had,  up 
to  this  time,  lived  their  married  life 
with  the  perfect  frankness  of  two  de 
voted  young  persons  who  love  and 
confide  in  each  other  —  and  this  was 
what  it  had  come  to  — bitterly  thought 
de  Meneval,  who  truly  loved  his  pretty 
little  wife  —  her  diamonds  practically 
put  in  pawn  by  him  with  that  old  cur 
mudgeon,  who  had  got  thereby  just  the 
opportunity  he  wanted  to  exile  them 
from  Paris.  All  these  thoughts  chased 
through  his  mind  as  he  looked  at  Leon- 
tine  with  a  new  and  unpleasant  convic 
tion  that  he  was  a  villain. 

Leontine,  for  her  part,  felt  a  horrid 
heart-sickness  when  she  remembered 
the  paste  necklace  quietly  reposing  in 
the  strong-box  in  her  dressing-room, 
while  Victor's  wedding  gift  was  in 
Papa  Bouchard's  strong-box  in  the  Rue 
Bassano.  And  that  dull  little  house  in 
the  country !  It  was  she  who  had 
brought  all  this  on  Victor,  and  the 
thought  filled  her  heart  with  remorse- 

112 


Papa  Bouchard 

ful  tenderness  toward  her  husband. 
She  addressed  him  by  the  fondest 
names  as  she  poured  his  coffee  for  him. 

"  And  you  have  to  go  to  that  tire 
some  Meiun  to-day,  to  be  away  from 
me  two  whole  days  ?  " 

"Yes,"  replied  de  Meneval.  "How 
I  wish  you  could  go  with  me  !  I  have 
often  been  sorry  I  gave  up  my  quarters 
to  accommodate  Lefebvre,  with  his 
wife  and  four  children  to  support  on 
her  dot  and  his  captain's  pay.  I  did  n't 
mind  living  en  gar^on  until  I  had  a  wife 
of  my  own." 

It  was  quite  true  that  de  Meneval, 
out  of  generosity,  had  given  up  the  best 
part  of  his  quarters  to  his  brother  offi 
cer,  and  had  not  the  heart  to  ask  for 
them  again,  especially  as  he  was  gen 
erally  supposed  to  be  in  the  enjoyment 
of  a  large  income. 

u  Don't    say    you   are   sorry,   Victor. 

For   my   part,  charming  as  it  would   be 

to   stay  at  Melun   with  you,  I  am  glad 

you  can  help  the  poor  Lefebvres.      We 

8 


Papa  Bouchard 

know  what   it  is  to  want   money,  don't 
we  ?  " 

"  Indeed  we  do." 

"  And  our  case  is  the  harder  that  no 
one  will  believe  we  have  n't  the  use  of 
our  money." 

Leontine,  who  was  delicate-minded, 
always  called  her  money  "  our  money," 
and  de  Meneval  deeply  and  affection 
ately  appreciated  this. 

u  And  it  will  be  duller  than  ever  at 
that  odious  little  cottage  in  the  suburbs 
of  Melun." 

"  Oh,  yes.  Leontine,  I  am  afraid  it 
is  I  who  have  brought  this  on  you." 

"  No,  no,  no  —  it  is  I,  or  rather 
Papa  Bouchard's  old-fashioned,  stingy 
ideas.  He  has  no  notion  of  what  a 
modern  way  of  living  costs." 

"  But  he  will  find  out  in  the  Rue 
Bassano,  if  I  'm  not  mistaken,"  said  de 
Meneval,  laughing  suddenly. 

Then  there  was  a  long  pause,  broken 
by  Leontine's  throwing  down  her  nap 
kin  and  crying  out  : 
114 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  I  have  an  inspiration  !  We  are  so 
dull  and  disheartened  to-day  that  noth 
ing  but  a  supper  at  the  Pigeon  House 
will  cheer  us  up.  You  will  take  me 
there  to-night.  Remember,  you  prom 
ised  me." 

"  Did  I  ?  "  asked  poor  de  Meneval. 
He  was,  in  truth,  afraid  to  show  his 
face  at  the  Pigeon  House  lest  the  head 
waiter  should  quietly  tap  him  on  the 
shoulder  and  ask  him  to  step  up  to  the 
bureau  and  pay  the  whole  of  the  nine 
teen  hundred  francs.  And  what  would 
become  of  that  story  he  had  told  Leon- 
tine  about  never  having  set  foot  in  the 
Pigeon  House  since  his  marriage  ? 
Only  the  week  before,  there  had  been 
a  little  supper  —  de  Meneval's  recol 
lection  of  it  was  rather  cloudy  —  but 
he  thought  he  remembered  something 
about  going  to  sleep  on  a  bench,  and 
waking  up  and  finding  an  umbrella  in 
his  sword-belt  instead  of  his  sword. 
This  scheme  of  Leontine's  was  most 
unlucky. 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  And  I  must  and  will  go  this  very 
evening  !  "  cried  Leontine,  jumping  up 
and  running  around  to  her  husband's 
chair,  where  she  proceeded  to  perch 
herself  on  the  arm.  "  I  know  exactly 
how  it  can  be  done.  I  will  take  the 
eight  o'clock  train.  You  will  meet  me 
at  the  station.  We  will  go  to  the 
Pigeon  House,  where  you  will  secure 
a  table  in  that  charming  terrace  gar 
den  you  have  told  me  so  much  about. 
We  will  have  a  jolly  little  supper  — 
and  I  '11  pay  for  the  champagne.  No 
—  no  !  "  putting  her  hands  over  de 
Meneval's  mouth.  "  And  it  will  be 
such  fun  to  watch  the  queer  people 
passing  in  and  out  of  the  music  hall ! " 

"Some  of  them,"  said  de  Meneval, 
with  the  hope  of  frightening  Leontine, 
"  are  very  queer  indeed." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know.  You  have  often 
told  me  about  the  singers  and  dancers 
coming  out  there  in  their  theatre 
clothes,  and  that 's  just  what  I  want  to 
see.  And  as  for  any  impropriety  — 
116 


Papa  Bouchard 

have  n't  I  often  heard  you  say  that  every 
one  of  those  hard-working  ballet  girls 
is  supporting  her  bedridden  parents,  or 
crippled  husband,  or  something  of  the 
sort  ?  " 

"  I  did  say  that  many  of  them  are 
honest  and  hard-working." 

"  I  am  sure  of  it !  The  mere  fact 
that  they  work  is  enough.  You  know 
I  have  been  studying  sociology  of  late, 
and  I  know  something  about  the  work 
ing  people. "  Leontine,  as  she  said 
this,  had  an  uncomfortable  twinge 
when  she  remembered  Putzki  and 
Louise. 

Now,  if  anything  in  the  world  was 
calculated  to  make  the  bright  June 
morning  blacker  than  it  was  already  to 
de  Meneval,  it  was  this  sudden  freak 
of  Leontine's  to  go  out  to  the  Pigeon 
House  to  supper.  He  fidgeted  in  his 
chair,  and  hummed  and  ha'd,  but  Leon- 
tine  prattled  on,  talking  about  the 
amusement  she  should  have. 

u  And  1  shall  at  last  meet  Major 
117 


Papa  Bouchard 

Falliere  !      I    am   so   anxious    to    know 
him,  the  dear  old  thing  !  " 

"  Falliere  won't  be  at  Melun  to 
night.  He  goes  to  Chalons  on  special 
duty  to-day,"  cried  de  Meneval,  seeing 
a  gleam  of  hope.  "  Why  not  wait 
until  he  comes  back  —  some  time  next 
week  ?  " 

"  Oh,  it  is  quite  useless  waiting  for 
an  officer.  He  may  be  snatched  up  at 
any  time  and  packed  off  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth.  And  go  to  the  Pigeon  House 
to-night  I  shall,  I  will,  I  must  -  "  she 
punctuated  this  sentence  by  giving  de 
Meneval  three  charming  kisses  —  "  and 
if  it  's  very  improper,  so  much  the  bet 
ter  !  I  shall  go  to  the  Rue  Clarisse 
and  tell  Aunt  Celeste  you  forced  me  to 
go  against  my  will,  and  so  escape  a 
scolding." 

"  That 's  all  very  well,"  replied  poor 
de  Meneval,  "  but  how  will  you  get 
back  to-night?  I  can't  leave  —  and 
I  don't  know  of  anyone  returning  to 
Paris." 

118 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Don't  bother  your  head  about  that. 
You  will  put  me  on  the  train  at  Melun 
—  my  maid  will  meet  me  at  the  St. 
Lazare  station.  What  could  be  sim 
pler  ?  No,  no,  no  !  I  shall  sup  with 
you  to-night  at  the  Pigeon  House,  so 
be  sure  and  meet  me  at  the  station  at 
half-past  eight  o'clock  —  you  have  just 
time  to  make  your  train."  And  she 
flew  into  his  room,  brought  out  his 
helmet  and  sword  —  for  he  was  in  uni 
form,  being  ready  to  report  for  duty  — 
and  kissing  him  affectionately,  pushed 
him  out  of  the  door.  De  Meneval  ran 
down  the  stairs  and,  jumping  into  a 
cab,  drove  rapidly  off.  He  waved  his 
hand  to  Leontine,  watching  him  from 
the  balcony. 

Deceits  and  concealments  were  a 
new  burden  for  Leontine  to  carry,  and 
she  spent  a  wretched  day.  Do  what 
she  would,  she  saw  her  diamond  neck 
lace  at  every  turn.  It  haunted  her  as 
the  dagger  haunted  the  Scotch  lady  in 
the  play.  Still  woebegone,  she  deter- 
119 


Papa  Bouchard 

mined  to  go  to  see  Aunt  Celeste  in  the 
Rue  Clarisse.  What  a  dismal  old 
street  it  was,  anyhow  !  Dark  and  dull 
and  utterly  without  life  —  no  wonder 
Papa  Bouchard  had  tired  of  it  and  had 
levanted  into  a  gayer  precinct.  When 
she  was  ushered  into  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard's  dingy  little  drawing-room 
she  found  that  good  woman,  Aunt 
Celeste,  seated  with  one  eye  on  her 
embroidery  and  the  other  on  Elise, 
who  was  polishing  up  the  already  shin 
ing  furniture.  Aunt  Celeste's  usually 
placid  face  was  troubled,  but  it  lighted 
up  when  she  saw  Leontine  running  in. 
Aunt  Celeste  was  genuinely  fond  of  the 
girl,  albeit  she  was  in  chronic  spasms 
over  Leontine's  modern,  and  to  poor 
Mademoiselle  Celeste's  notion,  outland 
ish  ideas.  Still,  they  really  loved  each 
other,  and  kissed  affectionately. 

"  Well,  Aunt  Celeste,  how  do  you 
stand  Papa  Bouchard's  absence?  "  asked 
Leontine,  jokingly,  but  not  unkindly. 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  wagged   her 

120 


Papa  Bouchard 

head  disconsolately.  "  It  is  not  how 
I  stand  it.  It  is  how  he,  poor,  dear 
boy,  stands  it.  Who  will  look  after 
his  dinner  and  see  that  he  has  simple 


and  wholesome  food  ?  Who  will  look 
to  his  flannels  ?  Who  will  see  that  he 
lays  aside  his  books  at  ten  o'clock  and 
goes  to  bed,  as  he  has  always  been  ac 
customed  ? " 

121 


Papa  Bouchard 

"It  seems  to  me,  Aunt  Celeste,  that 
as  Papa  Bouchard  is  fifty-four  years  of 
age  he  ought  to  know  something  about 
taking  care  of  himself." 

"But  he  doesn't.  However,  I  have 
given  him  Pierre.  I  have  the  greatest 
confidence  in  Pierre.  In  thirty  years 
I  have  never  known  him  to  be  guilty 
of  an  indiscretion.  He  was  very  un 
willing  to  go,  poor  fellow.  He  is  truly 
attached  to  the  quiet  and  decorum  of 
the  Rue  Clarisse,  and  objected  very 
much  to  the  noise  and  bustle  of  the- 
Rue  Bassano,  with  so  many  theatres 
about  and  people  turning  night  into  day. 
I  almost  had  to  force  him  to  go  —  but 
I  did  it  on  my  poor,  dear  brother's  ac 
count.  Pierre  is  to  come  to  see  me 
every  day  to  tell  me  just  how  the  dear 
boy  has  passed  his  time." 

Leontine  sincerely  hoped  that  Pierre 
would  not  think  it  necessary  to  men 
tion  her  visit  to  Papa  Bouchard  the 
night  before. 

"  And  I  have  had  another  sorrow," 
122 


Papa  Bouchard 

continued  poor  Mademoiselle  Bouchard. 
"  iVIy  parrot  —  Pierrot  —  that  I  have 
had  for  seventeen  years,  and  taught  so 
many  moral  and  useful  aphorisms  —  he, 
too,  has  deserted  me." 

UA11  three  of  them  vanished — like 
this  —  p°uf!"  Elise  put  in,  with  the 
freedom  of  an  old  servant.  "  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  that  good-for-nothing 
husband  of  mine  and  Pierrot  —  and  all 
bent  on  mischief —  that  I  '11  swear  to !  " 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  proceeded  to 
read  Elise  a  lecture  on  the  duties  of  the 
married  state,  among  the  first  of  which 
was  the  obligation  of  the  wife  to  be 
lieve  everything  her  husband  tells  her, 
at  which  Elise  laughed  grimly. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  joking,  ha,  ha  !  " 

Although  Mademoiselle  Bouchard  led 
so  retired  a  life,  she  liked  well  enough 
to  know  what  was  going  on  in  the  out 
side  world,  if  only  to  be  shocked  at  it. 
So,  when  Leontine  told  her  about  the 
proposed  supper  at  the  Pigeon  House 
that  evening,  Mademoiselle  Bouchard 
123 


Papa  Bouchard 

was  duly  horrified,  terrified  and  mor 
tified,  but  she  did  not  forget  to  charge 
Leontine  to  come  and  tell  her  all  the 
dreadful  things  she  saw  at  that  uncon 
ventional  place. 

Leontine,  after  spending  the  morn 
ing  in  the  Rue  Clarisse,  returned  to 
her  own  apartment  in  the  Avenue 
de  PImperatrice.  She  was  so  dispir 
ited  at  the  contemplation  of  her  own 
faults  and  Victor's  supposed  Spartan 
virtue  that  she  had  no  heart  to  take 
her  usual  afternoon  automobile  excur 
sion  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne  —  the 
automobile  being  one  of  the  few  in 
dulgences  she  had  been  able  to  screw 
out  of  Papa  Bouchard.  She  remained 
at  home,  therefore,  until  it  was  time  to 
take  the  eight  o'clock  train  for  Melun. 
Then,  taking  her  maid  to  the  St,  La- 
zare  station,  and  directing  her  to  be 
there  when  the  eleven  o'clock  train 
from  Melun  returned,  Leontine  stepped 
into  a  first-class  compartment,  and  was 
soon  speeding  toward  Melun. 
124 


Papa  Bouchard 

She  wore  a  beautiful  evening  cos 
tume  concealed  by  a  long  silk  cloak, 
and  a  charming  hat  was  perched  on 
her  dainty  head.  The  thought  in  her 
tender  little '  heart  was  of  the  pleasure 
her  society  would  give  her  dear  Victor. 

But  her  dear  Victor  had  spent  the 
day  in  a  manner  not  unlike  her  own. 
He  had  interviewed  the  proprietor  of 
the  Pigeon  House  and  had  paid  half  the 
bill.  The  transaction  had  involved 
the  mortifying  admission  that  before  the 
balance  was  handed  over  Monsieur 
Bouchard  would  be  out  there  himself 
to  look  into  the  matter,  as  if  Captain 
de  Meneval  were  a  naughty  schoolboy. 
The  proprietor  of  the  Pigeon  House 
had  scoffed  heartlessly  at  this,  and  de 
Meneval  had  difficulty  in  keeping  from 
knocking  him  down  for  his  impudence. 
Then  —  Leontine's  visit !  What  imp 
ish  microbe  had  lodged  in  her  head, 
inducing  her  to  come  out  there  ?  He 
knew  her  to  be  keen  of  wit,  and  it  would 
be  difficult  to  disguise  from  her  his 
I25 


Papa  Bouchard 

familiarity  with  the  place.  He  might, 
it  is  true,  say  he  knew  little  or  nothing 
about  it,  but  the  waiters,  especially  one 
Francois,  who  knew  his  taste  in  wines 
and  cigars,  fish  and  entrees  and  bars 
d'ceuvres  to  a  dot,  would  be  sure  to 
betray  him.  And  then,  the  diamond 
necklace  lay  heavy  on  his  heart  and 
danced  up  and  down  before  his  eyes, 
for  Victor  de  Meneval  really  loved  his 
charming  young  wife,  and  argued  to 
himself  that  if  that  stingy  old  hunks  of 
a  Papa  Bouchard  had  not  held  him  so 
tight  the  present  predicament  would 
not  have  existed. 

However,  time  waits  for  no  man; 
and  when  the  eight  o'clock  train  from 
Paris  was  due  Captain  de  Meneval 
was  at  the  little  station  waiting  for  it. 
And  when  it  rolled  in  Leontine  sprang 
gracefully  out  of  her  compartment. 

As  in  the  morning,  each  felt  remorse 
ful  and  penitent  toward  the  other  and 
tried  to  make  up  for  the  wrong  that 
each  had  secretly  done  the  other  by 
126 


Papa  Bouchard 

renewed  demonstrations  of  affection. 
When  de  Meneval  escorted  his  charm 
ing  wife  across  the  street  to  the  Pigeon 
House,  which  was  only  a  step  away,  he 
paid  her  the  prettiest  and  most  loverlike 
compliments  imaginable.  Leontine  re 
sponded  with  the  sweetest  smiles  and 
the  tenderest  words ;  so  that  by  the 
time  they  reached  the  terrace  garden 
through  a  covered  hedge  next  the 
Pigeon  House  itself,  each  felt  like  a 
thief  and  a  murderer. 

Leontine  exclaimed  with  delight  at 
the  beauty  of  the  terrace  garden.  It 
was  indeed  a  pretty  and  cheerful  place. 
It  looked  down  straight  into  a  little 
valley  where  the  river  meandered.  An 
iron  railing  and  a  stone  coping  defined 
the  terrace.  Trees  and  shrubbery, 
pretty  flower  beds  and  a  rustic  arbor 
were  lighted  by  incandescent  lamps  that 
gleamed  softly  in  the  purple  glow  of 
evening.  The  windows  of  the  Pigeon 
House  gave  directly  on  the  terrace, 
and  already  the  glittering  lights  and  the 
127 


Papa  Bouchard 

sounds  of  the  orchestra  showed  that  the 
performance  was  beginning.  There 
were  only  a  few  persons  scattered 
about,  and  the  waiters  were  collected 
in  groups,  whispering,  while  waiting 
for  customers.  One,  however  —  the 
identical  Francois,  whom  de  Meneval 
wished  to  avoid  —  ran  forward  and 
showed  them  a  pleasant  table.  He 
was  in  the  act  of  saying,  u  What  will 
Monsieur  le  Capitaine  have  ? "  when 
de  Meneval,  looking  him  straight  in 
the  face,  though  addressing  Leontine, 
said  : 

"  It 's  been  so  long  since  I  Ve  seen 
this  place — not  since  our  marriage,  in 
fact  —  that  I  hardly  know  what  it  is 
like." 

"  Oho  !  "  thought  Francois,  "  that  is 
your  game,  is  it  ?  Very  well,  Mon 
sieur,  I  will  help  you  out  with  it  —  for 
a  consideration."  Then,  extending  his 
hand  for  de  Meneval's  hat,  he  gave  a 
slight  but  significant  twitch  of  his  fin 
gers  and  palm,  to  which  a  ten-franc 
128 


Papa  Bouchard 

piece  was  the  agreeable  response. 
"Since  Monsieur  is  evidently  not  fa 
miliar  with  this  place,"  said  the  wily 
Francois,  ct  perhaps  he  will  allow  me 
to  recommend  our  white  soup,  to  begin 
with." 

"  Thank  you,"  replied  de  Meneval ; 
"  and  can  you  also  recommend  this 
turbot  on  the  menu  ?  " 

"  Yes,  Monsieur.  If  you  had  ever 
tasted  our  turbot  you  would  never 
look  at  turbot  outside  of  the  Pigeon 
House." 

u  By  the  way,  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

"Francois,  if  you  please." 

Francois  remembered  perfectly,  that 
little  supper  at  the  Pigeon  House  the 
week  before,  when  Captain  de  Meneval 
had  not  only  forgotten  Francois's  name 
but  his  own  as  well,  and  so  had  several 
other  very  jolly  officers.  But  Fran 
cois,  though  but  a  waiter,  had  the  soul 
of  a  gentleman,  and  was  nobly  oblivi 
ous  of  ever  having  set  eyes  on  Captain 
de  Meneval  before. 
9  129 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Now,  Victor,"  said  Leontine,  who 
had  been  studying  the  wine  list,  "  as 
I  invited  myself  here  to-night,  I  in 
tend  to  be  part  host.  I  claim  the 
right  of  providing  the  wine  and  cigars. 
They  shall  be  of  the  best,  as  the  best 
of  husbands  deserves."  Then,  turn 
ing  to  Francois,  she  said  :  "  Your  best 
Chambertin  with  the  soup,  and  a  bottle 
of  this  1840  Bordeaux,  and  a  bottle 
of  Veuve  Clicquot.  Also,  for  Mon 
sieur  le  Capitaine  some  of  your  Reina 
Regente  cigars."  Leontine  returned  to 
her  study  of  the  wine  list  and  de  Mene- 
val  and  Francois  exchanged  sympa 
thetic  grins.  Francois  vanished  after 
having  received  a  very  expensive  order. 

Left  to  themselves,  Leontine  and 
Victor  began  to  condole  with  each 
other  on  the  prospect  of  their  rustica 
tion. 

"It  is  not  for  myself  I  grieve,"  de 
clared  Leontine,  "  it  is  for  you,  poor 
darling." 

"Never  mind  me,"  protested  de 
130 


Papa  Bouchard 

Meneval.  "  If  only  you  were  not  con 
demned  to  that  infernal  little  cottage  ! 
Well,  we  shall  have  one  good  dinner, 
anyhow,  before  we  begin  doing  time, 
as  it  were." 


And  as  they  were  exchanging  their 
lugubrious  confidences,  a  shriek  of 
hoarse  laughter  resounded  near  them, 
and  there  on  the  arbor  hung  a  cage 
with  a  parrot  in  it  which  Leontine  im 
mediately  recognized  as  Pierrot.  With 


Papa  Bouchard 

gurgles  of  laughter  Leontine  told  Vic 
tor  of  her  visit  to  the  Rue  Clarisse 
that  morning  and  the  flight  of  Pierrot, 
along  with  that  of  Papa  Bouchard  and 
Pierre. 

u  And  I  shall  go  to-morrow  morn 
ing  and  tell  Aunt  Celeste  that  I  have 
seen  her  dear  Pierrot." 

"It  will  be  cruelty  to  animals  to 
take  the  poor  devil  back  to  the  Rue 
Clarisse,"  replied  de  Meneval. 

Francois  then  returned  with  the 
soup  and  fish,  both  of  which  were 
excellent.  De  Meneval  made  a  point 
of  calling  Francois  "  Louis "  or 
"Adolphe"  occasionally,  and  Fran 
cois  never  failed  to  respectfully  cor 
rect  him. 

Meanwhile,  sweet  sounds  of  the 
orchestra  and  of  singing  floated  out 
from  the  open  windows  of  the  Pigeon 
House.  More  people  strolled  on  the 
terrace,  including  many  officers  of  the 
garrison ;  and  when  the  intermission 
came,  a  flock  of  girls,  each  escorted  by 
132 


Papa  Bouchard 

a  young  man,  generally  an  officer,  came 
out,  laughing  and  chattering,  and  took 
their  places  at  the  little  tables.  Some 
had  only  a  glass  of  lemonade  or  wine, 


others  had  time  for  a  pate  or  some 
trifle  of  the  kind.  It  was  very  pretty 
and  picturesque,  and  Leontine,  never 
having  seen  anything  of  the  kind,  was 
delighted. 

De  Meneval  was  in  agony  lest   some 
T33 


Papa  Bouchard 

of  his  friends  among  the  ladies  should 
recognize  him,  but  they,  being  mostly 
decent  and  self-respecting  women, 
though  of  a  humble  class,  with  true 
French  politeness  did  not  intrude  them 
selves  on  his  notice  in  any  way.  Nor 
was  he  anxious  to  begin  a  conversa 
tion  with  any  of  his  brother  officers, 
and  carefully  avoided  noticing  them  be 
yond  a  bow,  although  many  of  them 
would  have  been  glad  of  an  introduc 
tion  to  his  pretty  young  wife. 

The  dinner  was  outwardly  very  jolly, 
but  the  demon  of  remorse  was  at  work 
within  the  breasts  of  both  Victor  and 
Leontine.  Nevertheless,  it  did  not  af 
fect  their  appetites,  and  Francois  found 
he  had  a  good  deal  to  do.  At  last, 
however,  coffee  was  served,  and  just  as 
Leontine  put  down  her  cup  a  scream 
from  the  parrot  resounded. 

"  Ah,  there  you  are,  Papa  Bouchard  ! 
Up  to  mischief,  eh,  Papa  Bouchard ! 
Bad  boy  Bouchard  !  " 

Now  these  were  some  of  the  phrases 
134 


Papa  Bouchard 

that  Leontine  herself,  during  her  so 
journ  in  the  Rue  Clarisse,  had  taught 
the  parrot,  much  to  her  own  and  Papa 
Bouchard's  amusement.  The  wicked 
bird  remembered  them  most  inoppor 
tunely,  for  there  was  Papa  Bouchard 
himself  strolling  into  the 
garden. 

"  Good  heavens  !  "  cried 
de  Meneval.  "  We  can't 
afford  to  let  Papa  Bouchard 
see  us  out  here.  We  should 
be  sent  into  retirement  to 
morrow  morning  !  "  And 
obeying  a  mutual  impulse, 
these  two  graceless  creatures 
flew  round  the  corner  of  the 
arbor,  where  they  could  see 
without  being  seen. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  entered  with  an 
air  of  affected  jauntiness  which  went 
very  well  with  the  extreme  youthful- 
ness  of  his  attire.  Apparently  he  had 
thrown  all  his  old  clothes  to  the  winds, 
along  with  his  discretion,  when  he 


Papa  Bouchard 

decamped  from  the  Rue  Clarisse.  He 
wore  an  extremely  youthful  suit  of 
light  gray,  with  a  flaming  necktie,  a 
collar  that  nearly  cut  his  ears  off,  and  a 
watch  chain  that  would  have  answered 
either  for  a  watch  or  a  dog.  A  huge 
red  rose  decorated  his  lapel,  and  his 
scanty  hair,  when  he  removed  his  hat, 
showed  marks  of  the  curling-iron. 

At  the  first  shriek  from  the  parrot 
Papa  Bouchard  started  apprehensively. 
The  waiters  —  a  shrewd  and  vexatious 
lot,  who  never  fail  to  notice  all  the 
slips  of  elderly  gentlemen  —  immedi 
ately  jumped  to  the  right  conclusion, 
that  the  elderly  gentleman  in  youthful 
attire  was  an  old  acquaintance  of  the 
newly  acquired  parrot.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  felt,  rather  than  saw,  a  simul 
taneous  snicker  go  round,  and  rightly 
concluding  that  the  best  thing  to  do 
was  to  ignore  the  wicked  Pierrot, 
walked  away  from  the  arbor,  and  seat 
ing  himself  at  a  table  some  distance 
away,  pulled  out  of  his  pocket  the  your- 
136 


Papa  Bouchard 

nal  des  Debats  and  read  it  diligently. 
The  parrot,  however,  delighted  to  find 
an  old  acquaintance  among  so  many 
new  faces,  continued  to  call  out,  at 
intervals,  various  remarks  to  Papa  Bou 
chard,  such  as  "  Does  the  old  lady 
know  you  're  out  ?  "  u  Oh,  you  are  a 
gay  bird,  Papa  Bouchard  !  "  and  always 
winding  up,  like  a  Greek  chorus,  with 
"Bad  boy  Bouchard!" 

Presently  a  waiter  approached  and 
asked  Monsieur  Bouchard  politely  what 
he  wished  to  be  served  with,  and  before 
he  could  ask  for  his  usual  drink,  a  little 
sugared  water,  the  diabolical  Pierrot 
screeched  out,  "  An  American  cock 
tail  ! "  which  the  bird  pronounced 
u  cockee-tailee."  Papa  Bouchard 
scowled.  This  was  very  annoying. 

"  A  little  sugared  water,  if  you 
please,"  he  replied  to  the  waiter,  and 
the  bird,  on  hearing  it,  burst  into  a 
screech  of  hoarse  laughter. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  laid  down  his 
newspaper  and  looked  about  him  with 
137 


Papa  Bouchard 

curiosity  not  unmixed  with  gratifica 
tion.  Everything  seemed  extremely 
jolly  - —  these  places  were  undoubtedly 


pleasant,  and  he  was  not  so  much  sur 
prised  as  he  had  been  at  de  Meneval's 
fondness  for  it.  At  that  very  moment 
de  Meneval  and  Leontine  were  watch- 

133 


Papa  Bouchard 

ing  him  and  counting  the  chances  of 
slipping  out  without  being  caught.  But 
Papa  Bouchard,  quite  unconscious  of 
this,  was  becoming  more  and  more  in 
terested  in  what  was  going  on  before 
him  and  around  him.  "  At  these  places, 
though,"  he  was  thinking,  "  one  should 
have  a  companion  —  a  person  of  the 
other  sex  —  someone  to  help  one  enjoy 
—  it's  dreary  trying  to  be  happy  alone." 
And  as  if  in  answer  to  his  thought, 
he  saw,  entering  the  garden  in  both 
haste  and  embarrassment,  the  charming 
Madame  Vernet. 

Now,  a  curious  thing  happened  —  a 
psychologic  mystery.  All  day  long 
Monsieur  Bouchard  had  been  haunted 
and  troubled  by  the  thought  of  Madame 
Vernet  and  the  paste  necklace.  She 
had  not  returned  it.  So  much  he  knew 
from  his  first  look  at  Pierre's  counte 
nance  when  he  had  got  home  that 
afternoon.  But  the  minute  he  saw  the 
lady  herself,  in  his  pleased  flutter  and 
twitter  of  enjoyment,  the  necklace 


Papa  Bouchard 

vanished  from  his  consciousness  ,  he 
remembered  only  that  she  was  pretty, 
she  was  young,  she  was  demure  and  she 
was  easily  alarmed.  In  fact,  Madame 
Vernet  appeared  to  be  scared  half  to 
death  at  this  very  instant,  and  as  soon 
as  she  caught  sight  of  Monsieur 
Bouchard  she  fled  toward  him  like  a 
frightened  bird. 

"  Oh,  Monsieur  Bouchard  !  "  she 
said,  panting  and  agitated,  "how  re 
lieved  I  am  to  find  you  here !  I  had 
an  appointment  to  meet  my  uncle  and 
aunt  here  —  you  remember  I  told  you 
I  had  an  uncle  and  aunt  living  at 
Melun  whom  I  often  visited  —  and  not 
seeing  them  outside  I  took  it  for  granted 
they  were  inside,  and  so  came  in.  I 
felt  terribly  embarrassed  —  I  am  so  diffi 
dent,  you  know  —  at  entering  such  a 
place  alone,  but  I  expected  every 
moment  to  see  them,  and  when  I  did 
not  I  thought  I  should  have  fainted 
from  sheer  terror  —  you  can't  imagine 
what  a  timid  little  thing  I  am  —  and 
140 


Papa  Bouchard 

then  my  eyes  fell  on  you,  and  I  said  to 
myself:  fc  There  is  that  dear,  good, 
handsome  Monsieur  Bouchard  —  he  is 
the  very  man  to  take  care  of  a  poor, 
terrified  woman  '  —  and  so  I  ran  to 
you."  Madame  Vernet  dropped  on  a 
chair  at  Monsieur  Bouchard's  table. 

What  man  with  a  soul  as  big  as  the 
head  of  a  pin  could  refuse  succor  to  a 
pretty  woman  under  these  circum 
stances  !  Not  Papa  Bouchard. 

"My  dear  Madame  Vernet,"  he 
said,  "  pray  compose  yourself.  I  will 
take  care  of  you  until  your  uncle  and 
aunt  arrive." 

Madame  Vernet  looked  around  ap 
prehensively. 

t4 1  don't  see  my  uncle  and  aunt," 
she  murmured  —  which  was  perfectly 
true  — "  and  I  am  afraid,  very  much 
afraid,  Monsieur  Bouchard,  that  your 
youthful  appearance  really  unfits  you 
for  the  office  of  chaperon." 

Oh,  how  happy  was  Papa  Bouchard 
at  that !  With  liberty  seemed  to  have 
141 


Papa  Bouchard 

come  youth  —  with  youth  should  come 
champagne.  Papa  Bouchard  called 
the  waiter  back  and  changed  his  order 
from  a  glass  of  sugared  water  to  a  quart 
of  extra  dry  Veuve  Clicquot. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  playfully  taking  up 
Madame  Vernet's  fan,  u  don't  worry 
your  little  head  about  your  uncle  and 
aunt.  I  '11  be  your  uncle  and  aunt  for 
this  evening.  I  'm  sure  I  have  been 
told  by  a  number  of  persons  —  mem 
bers  of  my  own  family  —  that  the 
Pigeon  House  is  a  perfectly  respectable 
place.  So  let  us  have  a  pleasant  even 
ing  here,  and  I  will  take  you  back  to 
Paris  by  the  eleven  o'clock  train." 

"Oh,  Monsieur  Bouchard,  there  is 
nothing  I  should  like  better,  but  I  am 
afraid " 

"  Don't,  don't  be  afraid.  There 
is  n't  the  least  chance  of  anyone  I 
know  turning  up.  I  have  a  young 
jackanapes  of  a  family  connection  sta 
tioned  here  —  a  young  officer  —  but  1 
think  I  have  pretty  effectually  shut 
142 


Papa  Bouchard 

the  door  of  the  Pigeon  House  in  his 
face.'1 

At  that  very  moment  this  young 
jackanapes  of  an  officer  was  watching 
and  listening  to  Papa  Bouchard  with 
the  most  entrancing  delight.  So  was 
Leontine,  who  could  not  refrain  from 
pinching  de  Meneval  in  her  ecstasy. 
The  enjoyment  of  these  two  young 
scapegraces  was  enhanced  at  this  very 
moment  by  the  parrot  screaming  out : 

"  Oh,  naughty  old  Bouchard  !  I  '11 
tell  the  old  lady !  Bad  boy  Bou 
chard  !  " 

Madame  Vernet  started  and  looked 
inquiringly  at  the  bird.  Papa  Bou 
chard  was  seriously  vexed. 

"  Pray,"  he  said,  in  an  annoyed 
voice,  "  don't  pay  any  attention  to  that 
ridiculous  bird.  I  always  thought  par 
rots  were  the  incarnation  of  the  devil. 
I  can't  imagine  how  the  creature  found 
out  my  name.  At  all  events,"  he 
added,  tenderly,  "  neither  bird  nor  devil, 
neither  man  nor  woman,  nor  even  your 


Papa  Bouchard 

aunt  and  uncle,  can  spoil  the  evening 
for  us." 

u  I  don't  think  my  aunt  and  uncle 
can  be  coming,"  replied  Madame  Ver- 
net.  And  she  spoke  the  truth. 

"So  much  the  better,"  whispered 
Papa  Bouchard. 

The  waiter,  the  same  astute  Fran 
cois  who  had  waited  on  de  Meneval 
and  Leontine,  now  appeared  with  the 
champagne.  Monsieur  Bouchard  had 
not  thought  of  ordering  anything  to 
eat,  but  when  this  artful  Francois  said 
to  him,  "  Did  Monsieur  ask  for  a 
menu  card  ?  "  Monsieur  Bouchard  re 
plied,  promptly,  "  Certainly  I  did." 

The  menu  was  brought,  and  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  with  his  head  close  to 
Madame  Vernet's,  studied  it  atten 
tively.  His  order  as  finally  made  out 
would  have  caused  an  earthquake  in 
the  Rue  Clarisse.  He  ordered  every 
thing  that  had  been  strictly  forbidden 
during  the  last  thirty  years.  The  order 
bore,  too,  a  really  remarkable  resem- 
144 


Papa  Bouchard 

blance  to  the  one  given  by  the  de 
Menevals,  except  that  those  happy-go- 
lucky  young  people  had  not  the  money 
to  pay  for  it,  and  Monsieur  Bouchard 
had. 

Never  in  all  his  life  had  Papa  Bou 
chard  enjoyed  a  supper  as  much  as  that 
one.  He  was  at  perfect  liberty  to  eat 
and  drink  all  the  things  that  were  cer 
tain  to  make  him  feel  ill  the  next  day, 
a  prerogative  dear  to  a  man's  heart. 
He  had  a  charming  woman  opposite 
him,  and  a  waiter  who  fairly  over 
whelmed  him  with  attentions.  With 
out  an  order  from  Monsieur  Bouchard, 
Francois  produced  the  wine  appropriate 
to  every  course,  and  instead  of  being 
frowned  on  was  rewarded  for  it.  But 
in  spite  of  white  wines  and  red  wines, 
Papa  Bouchard  stuck  pretty  close  to 
the  champagne,  which  speedily  got  into 
his  tongue  and  his  eyes  as  well  as  into 
his  blood.  It  was  the  champagne  that 
made  him  squeeze  Madame  Vernet's 
hand  under  the  table,  wink  at  Francois 
10  I45 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  kiss  his  fingers  to  one  of  the  young 
ladies  of  the  ballet,  who  responded  by 
playfully  throwing  a  bouquet  to  him 


which  hit  him  on  the  nose.  In  fact, 
his  enjoyment  would  have  been  entirely 
without  alloy  but  for  Pierrot,  who, 
slyly  inspired  by  the  waiters,  kept  up  a 
146 


Papa  Bouchard 

running  fire  of  remarks,  always  ending 
in  a  shrill  laugh  and  a  yell  of  tl  Bad 
boy  Bouchard  !  " 

If  Pierrot  bothered  Papa  Bouchard 
slightly,  he  added  immensely  to  the 
suppressed  gaiety  of  the  two  listeners, 
de  Meneval  and  Leontine,  and  they 
went  off  into  spasms  of  silent  laughter 
whenever  Pierrot  screamed  out  any 
appropriate  remark. 

Papa  Bouchard,  however,  got  a  good 
deal  of  solid  enjoyment  out  of  his 
supper  in  spite  of  his  old  friend  of  the 
Rue  Clarisse,  and  Pierrot  did  not  inter 
fere  in  the  least  with  Madame  Vernet's 
pleasure. 

"  The  fact  is,"  said  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  confidentially,  to  Madame  Ver- 
net,  after  the  third  glass  of  champagne, 
"  I  was  n't  quite  candid  about  that 
devilish  bird."  Papa  Bouchard  used 
this  wicked  word  with  the  greatest 
relish.  "It  belonged  to  my  sister  — 
older  than  I  —  who  brought  me  up 
in  the  way  I  should  go,  and  a  deuced 
147 


Papa  Bouchard 

dull  and  uncomfortable  way  it  was  ! 
A  day  or  two  ago,  Pierrot  —  that 's  the 
parrot's  name — got  tired  of  the  pro 
priety  and  seclusion  of  the  Rue  Clar- 
isse,  where  we  have  lived  for  thirty 
years,  just  as  Pierre,  my  man-servant, 
did,  and  I  myself.  All  at  once,  with 
out  any  previous  consultation,  Pierre, 
Pierrot  and  I  levanted,  so  to  speak. 
Pierrot  has  evidently  got  caught  — 
which  is  more  than  I  intend  to  be  — 
but  I  'm  sure  he  finds  the  Pigeon  House 
a  great  improvement  on  the  Rue  Clarisse, 
and  I  have  n't  the  heart  to  return  him 
there.  You  don't  know  how  pleasant 
it  is  to  be  living  in  the  Rue  Bassano 
after  thirty  years  in  the  Rue  Clarisse. 
And  to  be  my  own  man,  instead  of 
my  sister's  —  excellent  woman  she  is, 
excellent,  but  she  does  n't  understand 
what  a  young  man  of  the  present  day 
—  er  —  I  mean  a  man  with  the  feelings 
of  youth,  requires  to  make  him  happy. 
So  that's  why  I  eloped." 

"  It 's    a    great  mistake  not  to  give 
148 


Papa  Bouchard 

a  man  his  head  sometimes,"  added 
Madame  Vernet,  with  one  of  her  gentle 
and  winning  smiles. 

"  Yes,  yes,  yes.  You  know  how  to 
manage  a  man,  I  see." 

"  /  manage  a  man  !  "  cried  Madame 
Vernet.  "  Pray  don't  say  that.  The 
idea  of  my  managing  a  great,  strong 
man  !  No,  indeed !  All  I  should  ask 
of  a  man  is  that  he  would  manage  me 
—  and  I  'm  sure,  as  yielding  as  I  am, 
nothing  would  be  easier." 

At  which  Francois,  behind  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  chair,  doubled  up 
with  laughter,  and  Leontine  had  to  fan 
de  Meneval,  who  appeared  to  be  chok 
ing  in  an  agony  of  enjoyment,  while 
Pierrot  varied  his  performance  by  begin 
ning  to  sing  the  song  from  the  opera, 
"  Ah,  I  have  sighed  to  rest  me !  " 

"Well,"  continued  Papa  Bouchard, 
whose  bonhomie  increased  with  every 
sip  of  champagne,  "I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  manage  a  woman  some  day, 
for,  to  be  very  confidential,  my  dear 
149 


Papa  Bouchard 

Madame  Vernet,  I  am  in  an  excellent 
position  to  marry,  and  after  a  while  I 
think  I  shall  not  be  satisfied  with 
liberty.  I  shall  want  power,  too  —  the 
power  of  controlling  another  destiny, 
another  heart,  another  will  besides  my 
own ;  so  I  shall  marry  a  wife."  Papa 
Bouchard  said  this  with  an  air  of  the 
greatest  determination,  swelling  out 
his  waistcoat,  and  at  the  same  moment 
the  parrot  shrieked  out  laughing,  "  Oh, 
what  an  old  fool !  " 

"What's-  that?  What's  that?" 
cried  Monsieur  Bouchard,  indignantly, 
turning  to  Francois.  He  was  a  little 
confused  by  the  champagne  and  Ma 
dame  Vernet's  bright  eyes. 

"  If  you  please,  Monsieur,  it  is  that 
troublesome  parrot.  I  shall  tell  the 
proprietor  how  very  annoying  the  bird 
is  —  he  has  only  just  got  it  —  and  I  am 
sure  to-morrow  morning  it  will  be 
sent  away." 

Monsieur  Bouchard  had  to  be  satis 
fied  with  this.  His  enjoyment,  how- 
'5° 


Papa  Bouchard 

ever,  was  now  too  deep  for  Pierrot  to 
ruffle  except  for  a  moment.  Monsieur 
Bouchard  was  living —  living  cycles  of 
time,  and  life  was  taking  on  a  color, 
an  exuberance,  a  melody  that  quite 
turned  his  otherwise  excellent  head. 
He  was  delighted  with  Madame  Ver- 
net's  exposition  of  her  inability  and 
indisposition  to  manage  a  man. 
"That's  the  sort  of  wife  I'll  have 
when  I  marry,"  he  thought  to  him 
self,  taking  another  shy  at  the  cham 
pagne.  "  None  of  your  managing  sort 
—  I  've  been  managed  too  much  al 
ready,  heaven  knows."  And  inspired 
by  these  pleasing  reflections,  he  said, 
tenderly,  to  Madame  Vernet,  offering 
her  his  arm  : 

u  Come,  Madame,  let  us  take  a  lit 
tle  stroll  in  search  of  your  uncle  and 
aunt.  Do  you  see  that  sweet,  retired 
little  alley,  all  roses  and  myrtles  and 
honeysuckles,  with  a  lot  of  cooing 
pigeons  nestling  among  them  ?  Per 
haps  we  may  find  your  uncle  and  aunt 
'51 


Papa  Bouchard 

amid  the  roses.  And,  Madame,  I  may 
say  to  you,  I  don't  want  a  managing 
wife,  and  I  don't  know  any  man  who 
does.  I  want  a  dependent  creature  — 
sturdy  oak  and  clinging  vine,  you  know 
—  I  want  a  clinger.  And  if  she  has 
already  tried  her  hand  on  another  man, 
so  much  the  better.  I  get  the  benefit 
of  her  experience.  The  fact  is,  Ma 
dame,  I  was  born  to  console  —  I  'm  a 
consoler  of  the  first  water.  Now,  pray 
take  my  arm  and  let  us  explore  the 
wilderness  of  roses  and  myrtles." 

Madame  Vernet  hung  her  head,  but 
Papa  Bouchard  insisted.  When  at  last 
she  rose  she  threw  aside  the  graceful 
little  wrap  round  her  shoulders,  and 
there,  gleaming  on  her  throat,  was  the 
paste  necklace. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  received  a  dis 
tinct  and  unpleasant  shock  as  he  rec 
ognized  the  troublesome  object,  and 
he  was  nowise  relieved  by  Madame 
Vernet  saying,  in  her  softest  and  most 
insinuating  manner : 

'52 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  How  charming  it  was  of  you   to 
give  me  this  lovely  ornament  !  " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  would  have 
dropped  Madame  Vernet's  arm,  but 
she  held  on  to  him.  This  was  cer 
tainly  a  very  disagreeable  incident. 
He  had  not  given  her  the  necklace  — 
he  never  dreamed  of  giving  it  to  her  — 
he  had  been  very  much  annoyed  at 
her  failure  to  return  it,  and 

But  what  were  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
feelings  in  comparison  with  those  of 
Leontine  and  de  Meneval,  both  of 
whom  were  watching  every  move 
ment  of  Papa  Bouchard  and  Madame 
Vernet  ?  Their  laughing  faces  changed 
like  magic.  They  stood  —  Leontine 
and  Victor  —  horror-stricken,  and  as 
if  turned  to  stone,  each  pale,  trembling, 
and  afraid  to  meet  the  eye  of  the  other. 
But  as,  after  a  minute  or  two  of  agon 
ized  surprise,  they  began  to  recover 
from  the  first  shock  of  their  discovery, 
they  felt  the  necessity  of  concealing 
their  feelings  from  each  other,  and  at 
153 


Papa  Bouchard 

the  same  fime  not  losing  sight  of  the 
forty  thousand  franc  necklace. 

Leontine,  womanlike,  was  the  first 
to  rally.  She  was  quite  pale  —  de 
Meneval  was  not  sure  whether  she 
had  recognized  the  necklace  or  not, 
and  he  was  afraid  to  ask.  Her  voice 
trembled  slightly  as  she  said  : 

"  I  think  I  '11  go  and  speak  to  Papa 
Bouchard.  It  will  be  such  —  such  fun 
to  let  him  know  we  have  been  watch 
ing  him  all  the  time." 

Out  of  sheer  stupidity,  and  being 
thoroughly  disconcerted,  de  Meneval 
walked  along  with  her  toward  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard  and  Madame  Vernet. 
Leontine  jumped  to  the  conclusion 
that  he  suspected  something.  So  she 
stopped  short  and  said,  in  a  voice  that 
she  vainly  tried  to  make  laughing  and 
merry  : 

"Let  me  have  Papa  Bouchard  to 
myself — it  will  be  the  more  amusing 
if  you  appear  later  on." 

"Certainly,"    replied    de    Meneval, 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  continued  to  walk  with  her 
toward  Papa  Bouchard  and  Madame 
Vernet,,  The  fact  is,  he  had  not 
heard  a  word  of  what  Leontine  was 
saying.  Papa  Bouchard  was  standing 
in  front  of  Madame  Vernet,  and  his 
countenance  showed  that  all  was  not 
at  ease  within.  She  had  asked  him 
to  button  her  glove,  and  he  could  not 
well  refuse,  but  the  sight  of  the  neck 
lace  was  rather  trying  to  his  nerves. 
And  in  the  midst  of  it  appeared  the 
two  human  beings  he  least  desired 
to  see  on  earth  —  Leontine  and  de 
Meneval ! 

The  three  stood  looking  at  each 
other  like  a  trio  of  criminals.  Madame 
Vernet,  the  blushing,  the  bashful,  the 
diffident,  was  the  only  one  of  the 
four  who  was  not  cruelly  embarrassed. 
And  then,  besides  the  infernal  neck 
lace  —  for  so  Papa  Bouchard  char 
acterized  it  in  his  new  vocabulary  — 
the  idea  of  being  caught  supping  with 
a  lady  at  the  Pigeon  House  !  Suppose 


Papa  Bouchard 

those  two  scamps  should  fly  off  to  the 
Rue  Clarisse  with  the  gruesome  tale 
—  and  he  did  n't  know  exactly  how 
much  champagne  he  had  taken,  only 
his  head  was  buzzing  a  little  —  poor, 
poor  Papa  Bouchard !  However,  it 
would  never  do  to  show  the  white 
feather  in  the  beginning;  the  cham 
pagne  had  given  him  some  Dutch 
courage,  but  it  did  not  supply  him 
with  any  judgment,  for  his  first  remark 
was  about  the  most  indiscreet  he  could 
have  made.  Assuming,  or  trying  to 
assume,  his  usual  authoritative  air,  he 
said  to  de  Meneval : 

"  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,  I  thought 
there  was  a  distinct  understanding  be 
tween  us  that  there  were  to  be  no  more 
suppers  at  the  Pigeon  House.  And 
bringing  your  wife  to  this  place " 

u  I  know  of  no  such  understanding, 
Monsieur  Bouchard,"  replied  de  Mene 
val,  with  some  spirit.  "  I  deny  your 
right,  or  that  of  any  other  man,  to 
say  where  I  shall  have  supper  with  my 

156 


Papa  Bouchard 

wife.  If  the  Pigeon  House  is  proper 
enough  for  you  and  this  lady  — "  de 
Meneval  indicated  Madame  Vernet, 
who,  with  her  usual  bashfulness,  had 
retired  a  little  —  "  whom  'I  overheard 
just  now  thanking  you  for  the  superb 
necklace  she  wears,  it  is  assuredly  proper 
for  me  and  for  my  wife." 

This  was  unanswerable  logic,  and 
Papa  Bouchard  was  momentarily  stag 
gered  by  it.  De  Meneval  followed  up 
his  advantage  by  saying,  significantly, 
u  To-morrow  morning  I  shall  come  to 
see  you,  and  you  will  kindly  explain 
to  me  some  mysteries  concerning  —  " 
De  Meneval  stopped  short ;  he  could 
not  speak  his  mind  to  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  without  letting  the  terrible  and 
menacing  cat  out  of  the  bag  regarding 
the  necklace. 

It  was  now  Leontine's  turn  at  the 
poor  gentleman. 

"  Come,  Papa  Bouchard,"  she  said, 
with  pallid  lips,  but  affecting  to  laugh, 
"you  must  not  scold  Victor  for  bring- 


Papa  Bouchard 

ing  me  here.  I  really  made  him  do  it. 
But  I  want  to  speak  to  you  a  moment 
in  that  sweet,  sequestered  arbor,  where 
you  told  this  lady  just  now  she  might 


find  her  uncle  and  aunt,  amid  the  roses 
and  honeysuckles  and  the  little  cooing 
pigeons." 

Monsieur     Bouchard     would     much 
rather  have  gone  off  with   a  gendarme 


Papa  Bouchard 

at  that  very  moment,  but  Leontine 
had  him  by  the  arm,  and  was  deter 
minedly  dragging  him  away.  An 
anxious  grin  appeared  on  his  counte 
nance  as  he  turned  to  Madame  Vernet 
and  said  : 

u  One  moment,  Madame,  and  I  will 
return." 

"  Only  a  moment,  remember,"  an 
swered  this  bashful  creature. 

Madame  Vernet  had  not  the  slight 
est  objection  to  being  left  in  charge 
of  this  good-looking  young  officer. 
She  cast  down  her  eyes  and  began  to 
murmur  something  about  her  timidity, 
when  she  was  brought  up  all  standing 
by  de  Meneval  saying  : 

a  Madame,  a  few  moments  ago  I 
overheard  you  thanking  Monsieur 
Bouchard  for  that  superb  necklace  you 
wear." 

Madame  Vernet  smiled.  Superb 
necklace,  indeed  !  It  must  be  a  fine 
imitation. 

u  But,"     continued      de      Meneval, 


Papa  Bouchard 

"that  necklace  belongs  to  my  wife, 
Madame  de  Meneval.  I  myself  se 
lected  it,  and  paid  forty  thousand  francs 
for  it.  Last  night  I  left  it  in  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  care  in  the  Rue  Bas- 
sano.  To-night  I  find  you,  a  woman 
with  whom,  I  am  sure,  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  has  a  very  casual  acquaintance, 
wearing  my  wife's  forty  thousand  franc 
necklace.  You  will  admit  that  the 
circumstances  justify  me  in  demanding 
the  necklace." 

"  Monsieur,"  replied  Madame  Ver- 
net,  u  this  necklace  is  paste.  It  cost 
only  seventy-five  francs.  I  have  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard's  word  for  it." 

"  The  old  sinner  !  Well,  Monsieur 
Bouchard  was  n't  saying  his  prayers 
when  he  told  you  that.  I  tell  you  the 
stones  are  real,  and  unless  you  hand 
the  necklace  over  to  me  this  instant  I 
shall  telephone  for  a  couple  of  police 
men  —  there  is  a  police  station  not 
two  minutes  away — and  to-morrow 
morning  you  and  Monsieur  Bouchard 
1 60 


Papa  Bouchard 

can  explain  the  matter  in  the  police 
court." 

Now,  Madame  Vernet  was  really 
as  brave  as  a  lion.  She  suspected  at 
once  that  she  had  got  hold  of  some 
thing  of  actual  value,  and  she  determined 
to  hold  on  to  it  arid  get  away  with  it ; 
hence  nothing  could  have  been  more 
pleasing  to  her  at  that  moment  than  to 
have  de  Meneval  out  of  the  way  for  a 
few  moments — even  to  fetch  a  police 
man  —  so  she  merely  replied,  with 
cairn  assurance  : 

"  Do  as  you  like,  Monsieur.  I  never 
saw  you  before — I  hope  I  shall  never 
see  you  again.  My  protector  is  at 
hand,  and  when  you  arrive  with  your 
police  officers  it  is  Monsieur  Bouchard 
with  whom  you  will  have  to  settle." 

De  Meneval  turned  and  ran  out  of 
the  garden  toward  the  police  station. 
He  thought  that  exposure  was  coming 
anyhow,  and  he  had  better  secure  the 
stakes  in  the  game.  As  he  rushed  out 
he  caromed  against  a  very  well-dressed, 
ii  161 


Papa  Bouchard 

portly,  clean-shaven  elderly  gentle 
man,  who  was  parading  into  the  garden 
with  a  great  air  of  pomposity.  In  his 
hand  he  held  conspicuously  a  news 
paper,  on  the  first  page  of  which  was  a 
large  photogravure  easily  recognizable  as 
himself,  and  under  it,  in  letters  an  inch 
long,  were  the  words, 

DR.  DELCASSE 

THE   MOST   CELEBRATED  ALIENIST 
IN  PARIS. 

Below  this  was  the  cut  of  a  handsome 
building,  and  under  this  was  inscribed, 
"  The  Private  Sanatorium  at  Melun  of 
Dr.  Delcasse." 

Dr.  Delcasse  seemed  to  feel  the  in 
jury  to  his  dignity  very  much  when 
de  Meneval  jostled  by  him  so  uncere 
moniously,  nearly  knocking  him  down. 
He  stopped,  scowled,  growled,  and  then, 
with  a  portentous  air  of  being  much 
displeased,  stalked  forward,  took  a  seat 
close  to  where  Madame  Vernet  was 
standing,  and  began  pompously  to  unfold 
162 


Papa  Bouchard 

his    newspaper,     always     keeping     the 
picture  to  his  audience,  so  to  speak  — 


which  audience  consisted  solely  of  Ma 
dame  Vernet. 

Now,  for  quickness  and  boldness  of 
resource  Madame  Vernet  was  fully  the 
equal  of  de  Meneval  or  any  man  alive, 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  the  moment  she  became  convinced 
of  the  identity  of  Dr.  Delcasse  a  plan 
was  formed  in  her  mind.  Everybody 
knew  Dr.  Delcasse,  and  also  of  the 
war  waged  between  him  and  Dr. 
Vignaud,  another  celebrated  alienist, 
which,  if  carried  to  extremes,  would 
have  resulted  in  locking  up  half  the 
population  of  Paris  as  lunatics  either 
in  Dr.  Delcasse's  sanatorium  at  Melun 
or  Dr.  Vignaud's  private  hospital  in 
Paris. 

Madame  Vernet  realized,  in  her 
brilliant  scheme,  the  value  of  time. 
There  was  a  train  leaving  for  Paris  in 
ten  minutes.  If  she  couid  but  make 
the  first  train,  getting  away  before 
Monsieur  Bouchard  returned !  She 
determined  to  at  least  try  for  it.  She 
came  near  to  Dr.  Delcasse,  and  said, 
in  a  silvery  voice  : 

"May   I  ask   if  this   is    not   the  re 
nowned  Dr.  Delcasse — the  man  who 
has    restored    the    largest    number    of 
persons,  cured  and  sane,  to  their  fam- 
164 


Papa  Bouchard 

ilies,  of  any  doctor  for  the  insane  in 
the  whole  world  ?  " 

To  this  insinuating  address  from  a 
remarkably  pretty  and  attractive  woman 
Dr.  Delcasse,  as  would  any  other  man, 
felt  a  warming  of  the  heart,  and  he 
replied,  rising  politely  : 

"You  flatter  me.  I  am  Dr.  Del 
casse." 

"  Then,"  cried  Madame  Vernet, 
taking  out  her  handkerchief  and  pre 
paring  to  weep,  "  you  are  the  man  I 
most  desire  to  meet.  Oh,  how  fortu 
nate  it  is  for  me  that  you  are  here  !  I 
have  a  brother  with  me — a  dear,  good 
young  man,  but  whose  mind  has  been 
affected  ever  since  a  fall  he  had  from 
an  apricot  tree  some  years  ago.  For 
a  year  I  had  him  at  Dr.  Vignaud's 
hospital  for  the  insane  — rightly  named, 
for  I  think  anyone  who  went  there 
would  shortly  be  insane.  Dr.  Vig- 
naud  is  a  charlatan  of  the  worst 
description."  Dr.  Delcasse  smiled  in 
a  superior  manner  to  hear  himself 

165 


Papa  Bouchard 

praised    and     Dr.     Vignaud    reviled  — 
how     delicious !       « I     am     my    pool- 
brother's     guardian,"     continued     Ma 
dame  Vernet,   producing   her  card,   in 
scribed  "  Madame  Vernet,  nee   Brion." 
"My   brother's    name  is   Louis   Brion. 
Ever  since  he  was   released   from   Dr. 
Vignaud's  asylum    he    has   been    much 
crazier    than    when    he    went    in,    al 
though     Dr.     Vignaud     declared     him 
thoroughly   cured." 

"Just  like  Vignaud!"  remarked  Dr. 
Delcasse,  with  that  spirit  of  fraternity 
which  sometimes  distinguishes  the 
medical  profession. 

"  This  evening,"  continued  Madame 
Vernet,  throwing  her  most  pleading 
and  fascinating  look  into  her  eyes, 
cc  I  brought  my  poor,  dear  brother  out 
to  this  place  to  supper,  thinking  it 
would  divert  him.  But  he  has  been 
quite  insane  in  all  his  actions,  and  just 
now  he  became  violent.  He  took  it 
into  his  head  that  this  necklace  I  wear 
—  which  I  may  say  to  you  confidentially 
1 66 


Papa  Bouchard 

is  paste  —  is  real,  and  is  worth  forty 
thousand  francs,  and  that  I  have 
stolen  it  from  his  wife.  The  poor 
boy  has  no  wife.  And  while  I  was 
trying  to  soothe  him  just  now  he  sud 
denly  broke  away,  nearly  knocking 
you  down  as  you  came  in,  and  de 
clared  he  was  going  after  the  police  to 
arrest  me — ?ne,  his  devoted  sister!" 
Madame  Vernet's  voice  became  lost 
in  her  lace  handkerchief. 

"  I  saw  an  unmistakable  gleam  of 
insanity  in  his  eye  as  he  rushed  by 
me,"  said  Dr.  Delcasse,  promptly. 
u  My  experience,  Madame,  has  been 
vast.  I  can  tell  an  insane  patient  at 
a  glance,  and  I  have  no  hesitation  in 
saying  that  the  young  man  gave  every 
indication  to  a  practiced  eye  of  being, 
as  you  say,  very  much  unbalanced. 
And  Vignaud  said  he  was  cured !  Ha, 
ha  !  " 

"  But  the  great  thing,"  said  Madame 
Vernet,  with  real  and  not  pretended 
anxiety,  "  is  to  get  him  away  from 
167 


Papa  Bouchard 

here  without  scandal,  and  into  your 
sanatorium,  where  I  wish  to  place  him 
under  your  care.  How  can  that  be 
managed  ?  " 

"  Nothing  easier,  Madame,"  replied 
Dr.  Delcasse,  eager  to  get  hold  of  one 
of  Dr.  Vignaud's  patients.  "  I  am 
well  known  here — indeed,  I  am  per 
sonally  acquainted  with  many  of  our 
police  officers.  When  the  young  man 
returns  with  the  officers  I  shall  sim 
ply,  with  your  permission,  direct  them 
to  convey  him  to  my  sanatorium  —  it 
is  less  than  half  a  mile  from  here  — 
and  I  will  telephone  to  my  assistant 
to  have  a  strait-jacket,  a  padded  cell 
and  a  cold  douche  ready  for  the  un 
fortunate  young  man,  and  we  will 
take  care  of  him,  never  fear.  When 
I  release  him,  depend  upon  it,  he  will 
be  actually  cured.  I  am  not  Dr.  Vig- 
naud,  I  beg  you  to  believe." 

At  this  moment  de  Meneval,  with  a 
couple  of  officers,  was  entering  the 
garden.  The  police  station,  as  he 
168 


Papa  Bouchard 

had  said,  was  but  two  minutes  away. 
Dr.  Delcasse,  accompanied  by  Madame 
Vernet,  coolly  advanced,  and  recog 
nizing  the  officers,  spoke  to  them  civ 
illy,  saying  : 

u  Good-evening,  Lestocq  ;  good- 
evening,  Caron."  And  then  to  de 
Meneval  he  said,  soothingly  :  "Good- 
evening,  Monsieur  Brion.  I  am  pleased 
to  see  you  and  your  charming  sister  at 
Melun,  and  think  you  will  enjoy  your 
stay  with  me." 

De  Meneval  looked  from  one  to  the 
other  in  amazement,  and  opened  his 
mouth  to  speak;  but  before  he  could 
get  out  a  word  Madame  Vernet  laid 

to 

her  hand  on  his  arm  and  said,  in  the 
tone  of  soothing  a  raving  lunatic  : 

"  Yes,  dear  Louis,  Dr.  Delcasse 
will  take  the  best  possible  care  of  you, 
and  I  will  come  out  to  see  you  every 
week." 

De  Meneval  found   his  tongue  then. 

"  To  the  devil  with  Dr.  Delcasse  ! 
I  never  heard  of  him  before.  Police, 
169 


Papa  Bouchard 

arrest  this  woman.  I  can  prove  by  my 
wife  and  by  a  gentleman  now  in  this 
garden  that  the  diamond  necklace  this 
person  wears  is  the  property  of  my 
wife." 

"  Do  nothing  of  the  kind,"  inter 
rupted  Dr.  Delcasse,  with  quiet  author 
ity.  "  This  young  man,  Louis  Brion,  is 
the  brother  of  this  lady,  Madame  Vernet. 
He  is  demented,  and  his  latest  halluci 
nation  is  that  Madame  Vernet  has  stolen 
the  necklace  she  wears  ;  that  it  is  worth 
forty  thousand  francs,  that  she  stole 
it  from  his  wife  —  and  he  has  no 
wife." 

"  But  I  tell  you,"  shouted  de  Mene- 
val,  quite  beside  himself,  "  that  I  never 
saw  this  woman  before.  She  has  my 
wife's  diamond  necklace,  and  I  can 
prove  it.  Call  Monsieur  Bouchard  !  " 

u  You  see  how  it  is,"  coolly  remarked 
Dr.  Delcasse  to  the  two  police  officers, 
"  the  only  thing  is  to  get  him  out  of  the 
way  as  quietly  as  possible.  I  shall  take 
him  at  once  out  to  my  sanatorium,  where 
170 


Papa  Bouchard 

I  will  have  a  strait-jacket,  a  padded  cell 
and  a  cold  douche  waiting  for  him." 

With  this  the  Doctor  suddenly 
whipped  out  his  silk  handkerchief,  and 
with  the  greatest  ingenuity  bound  it 
fast  round  de  Meneval's  mouth,  so  that 
he  was  completely  gagged  and  silenced. 
The  police  officers  seized  him,  and 
dragged  him  out,  under  Dr.  Delcasse's 
direction.  De  Meneval  fought  like  a 
tiger,  but  it  was  one  to  three.  The 
struggle,  though  violent,  was  noiseless, 
and  before  the  two  or  three  waiters  in 
the  vicinity  realized  what  was  going  on 
everything  was  over,  and  Madame  Ver- 
net,  picking  up  her  gloves,  fan  and 
other  belongings,  scurried  off  another 
way  to  make  the  ten  o'clock  train. 

Meanwhile,  the  interview  between 
Papa  Bouchard  and  Leontine  had  been 
stormy.  Leontine  had  demanded  an 
explanation,  but  Papa  Bouchard  had  no 
satisfactory  one  to  give.  At  first  he 
mounted  his  high  horse,  declared  Leon- 
tine's  suspicions  intolerable,  and  refused 


Papa  Bouchard 

to  discuss  the  subject  of  the  necklace 
at  all.  But  she  was  not  so  easily  put 
off. 

"  If  you  refuse  me  an  explanation," 
she  said  at  last,  "  I  shall  simply  confess 
all  to  Victor,  and  you  will  have  to  treat 
with  a  man  instead  of  a  woman." 

u  Do;  confess  all  to  Victor,"  replied 
Papa  Bouchard,  tartly.  "  Tell  him  that 
sociological  yarn  you  told  me." 

"  I  'm  afraid  to,"  replied  Leontine,  so 
dolefully,  that  it  partially  softened  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  who  really  had  a  good 
heart. 

"  Come,  come,  now,"  he  said.  uYou 
had  better  take  my  word  for  it  when  I 
tell  you  that,  in  spite  of  appearances, 
your  necklace  is  safe.  I  can't  and 
won't  tell  you  the  circumstances  — you 
and  de  Meneval  would  both  blazon  it 
over  Paris,  and  it  would  be  devilish  un 
comfortable  — "  Papa  Bouchard  was 
becoming  expert  in  the  use  of  bad  lan 
guage —  "it  would  be  devilish  uncom 
fortable  for  me.  I  can  straighten  the 
174 


Papa  Bouchard 

whole  thing  out  in  a  few  days,  if  you 
will  only  keep  quiet.  Cant  you  keep 
quiet  ?  " 

By  this  time  they  were  re-entering 
the  garden. 

"  I  will  agree  to  keep  quiet  for  a 
week,"  said  Leontine,  firmly.  "At 
the  end  of  that  time,  if  this  unpleasant 
complication  about  my  necklace  is  not 
cleared  up,  I  have  a  presentiment  that 
the  whole  thing  will  get  into  the  news 
papers.  Just  fancy  the  headlines, '  Mys 
tery  of  Madame  de  Meneval's  Diamond 
Necklace.  Monsieur  Paul  Bouchard 
Proved  to  have  Given  it  to  an  Adven 
turess,  With  Whom  he  was  Caught  at 
the  Pigeon  House.'  " 

Papa  Bouchard  felt  his  knees  grow  a 
little  weak  under  him,  and  went  and 
sat  down  in  the  chair  he  had  lately 
vacated.  Leontine  followed  him  and 
said  dramatically,  as  if  reading  the  scare 
head  in  a  great  metropolitan  daily. 

" c  SUICIDE  of  Monsieur  Paul  Bou 
chard  !  The  late  Advocate  Discovered 


Papa  Bouchard 

in  his  Apartment  With  a  Pistol  Wound 
Through  his  Temple  !  The  Apartment 
presents  the  Appearance  of  a  Shambles  ! 
Blood  Over  Everything!!  Walls  and 
Ceilings  Much  Bespattered  !  !  ! '  " 

Papa  Bouchard,  very  white  around 
the  lips,  poured  out  with  an  unsteady 
hand  a  glass  of  champagne,  and  drank 
it,  the  glass  clinking  against  his  teeth. 

"  Leontine,"  he  said,  after  having 
drained  the  glass.  "  You  are  trying  to 
frighten  me.  But  you  can't  do  it.  You 
sha'n't  do  it.  And  I  insist  that  you 
shall  not  be  carrying  any  of  your  sensa 
tional  tales  to  the  Rue  Clarisse,  alarm 
ing  my  poor  sister,  and  making  her 
life  a  torment.  Do  you  hear  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  do,"  replied  Leon- 
tine.  u  And,  by  the  way,  where  is  your 
lady  friend  ?  " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  looked  around 
for  Madame  Vernet,  and  was  much 
disturbed  at  not  seeing  her.  In  the 
perplexities  and  annoyances  of  the  last 
half-hour  he  had  made  up  his  mind  that 
176 


Papa  Bouchard 

it  was  absolutely  necessary  to  get  that 
diabolical  necklace  back,  and  to  work 
himself  out  of  the  scrape  in  which  he 
unexpectedly  found  himself. 

He  called  up  Francois,  who  reported 
that  Madame  Vernet  had  gone  out  in  a 
great  hurry.  There  was  a  train  for  Paris 
just  leaving.  It  struck  him  Madame 
was  trying  to  make  that  train.  Such 
was  precisely  Monsieur  Bouchard's  idea. 
Her  departure  in  this  way  seriously  an 
noyed  and  alarmed  him.  One  thing, 
however,  was  clear  in  his  mind  —  he 
must  get  back  to  Paris  as  soon  as  possi 
ble.  There  was  another  train  in  twenty 
minutes,  and  then  there  would  be  no 
more  till  eleven. 

De  Meneval's  disappearance  was  also 
strange,  but  just  as  Leontine  was  begin 
ning  to  feel  uncomfortable  she  saw  de 
Meneval  approaching.  Something  un 
usual  had  evidently  happened.  He 
looked  angry  and  excited,  and  his  usu 
ally  immaculate  dress  showed  that  he 
had  been  in  a  scrimmage.  By  his  side 
12  177 


Papa  Bouchard 

walked  the  portly,  the  imposing  Dr. 
Delcasse.  The  Doctor  was  apologiz 
ing  to  de  Meneval  with  the  utmost 
earnestness. 

u  My  dear  sir,  I  beg  you  will  believe  it 
was  a  most  extraordinary  mistake " 

u  Very  extraordinary  !  "  replied  de 
Meneval,  grinding  his  teeth  with  rage. 

u  If  I  had  succeeded  in  getting  you 
into  my  sanatorium  you  would  have 
found  every  comfort  awaiting  you." 

"  Yes,  a  strait-jacket,  a  cold  douche, 
and  a  padded  cell,  as  you  kindly  promised 
me." 

u  May  I  ask,  Monsieur,  that  you 
will  not  spread  this  unfortunate  story 
abroad  in  Paris  ?  " 

u  I  shall  have  it  printed  in  every 
newspaper  in  "Paris  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  and  I  shall  myself  write  to  Dr. 
Vignaud,  giving  him  a  detailed  account 
of  the  affair." 

"  Good  heavens  !  " 

"  And  if  insanity  ever  develops  in 
my  family,  it  is  Dr.  Vignaud  who  shall 

' 


Papa  Bouchard 

treat  every  case  —  every   case,  do  you 
hear  ? " 

"Then,  sir,"  said  Dr.  Delcasse,  an 
grily,  "all  I  have  to  say  is  that  I  am 
not  at  all  sure  my  first  diagnosis  was 


not  correct,  and  you  are  indeed,  already 
crazy  —  and  I  have  the  honor  to  bid 
you  good-evening." 

"  Go  to  the  devil !  " 

Dr.  Delcasse,  slapping  his  hat  down 
angrily  on  his  head,  marched  indig- 
179 


Papa  Bouchard 

nantly  out,  and  de  Meneval,  still  furious 
at  the  treatment  to  which  he  had  been 
subjected,  poured  out  his  injuries  : 

"  And  but  for  having  been  recog 
nized  by  some  of  the  waiters  as  I  was 
being  dragged  away  I  should  at  this 
moment  be  an  inmate  of  a  lunatic 
asylum,  sent  there  by  the  wiles  of  a 
shameless  adventuress,  brought  to  the 
Pigeon  House  by  Monsieur  Bouchard." 
This  was  de  Meneval's  exact  language. 

"  Take  care,  sir  ;  take  care  !  "  cried 
Papa  Bouchard,  in  a  voice  trembling 

o 

with  wrath.  He  was  not  accustomed 
to  being  talked  to  in  that  manner. 
"You  may  repent  of  this  language. 
Madame  Vernet  is  a  lady  of  means  and 
respectability.  I  did  not  bring  her  out 
here.  She  came  expecting  to  find  here 
her  uncle  and  aunt,  who  live  in  Melun. 
I  invited  her  to  sup  in  a  public  place, 
as  any  gentleman  is  authorized  to  do  in 
the  case  of  a  widow  old  enough  to  take 
care  of  herself — and  because  your  sus 
picions  were  excited  by  her  having  on 
1 80 


Papa  Bouchard 

a  necklace  like  that  you  bought  for 
your  wife,  you  proceeded  to  make 
trouble.  Well,  it  seems  she  turned 
the  tables  on  you  very  cleverly,  and  no 
doubt,  being  a  bashful  little  thing,  she 
dreaded  the  sensation  it  would  make 
and  the  notoriety  which  might  follow, 
and  —  and  so,  naturally,  has  gone." 
Then,  turning  to  Leontine,  Papa  Bou 
chard  played  his  trump  card.  "  Have  n't 
you  your  diamond  necklace  safe  at 
home,  Leontine  ?  " 

"  To  which  Leontine  faltered : 
UY — y — yes,  Papa  Bouchard." 

"  Well,  then,"  cried  Papa  Bouchard, 
assuming  an  air  of  triumphant  virtue  to 
poor  de  Meneval,  "  I  hope  you  see  the 
enormity  of  your  conduct." 

"  I  can't  say  I  do,"  sullenly  replied 
de  Meneval. 

"  Very  well,  very  well,"  continued 
Papa  Bouchard,  realizing  that  he  held 
all  the  trumps  in  the  game.  "Do  you 
want  to  go  into  the  whole  business  of 
this  necklace  ?  If  you  do  there  is  no 
181 


Papa  Bouchard 

time  like  the  present.  Do  you,  Leon- 
tine,  want  the  matter  sifted  to  the 
bottom  ?  " 

De  Meneval  remained  gloomily  si 
lent,  while  Leontine  murmured,  "  N — 
no,  Papa  Bouchard." 

Papa  Bouchard,  having  thus  effectu 
ally  silenced  both  of  them,  felt  master 
of  the  situation,  but  all  the  same,  he 
was  desperately  anxious  to  reach  Paris 
in  advance  of  the  de  Menevals,  so  that 
he  could  get  on  Madame  Vernet's  track 
before  they  should.  He  was  pretty 
sure  that  she  could  not  slip  away  from 
her  apartment  without  leaving  some 
trace.  There  was  another  train  going 
almost  immediately,  and  there  would 
be  no  more  till  eleven  o'clock.  It 
would  be  exceedingly  convenient  for 
him  to  get  an  hour's  start  of  the  de 
Menevals. .  So  it  occurred  to  him  that 
if  he  were  to  propose  a  little  more 
champagne  Leontine  and  de  Meneval 
would  never  run  away  and  leave  it, 
but  he  could  and  would. 
182 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Now,"  said  he,  with  an  air  of 
benevolence,  "  everything  having  been 
straightened  out  about  the  necklace, 
suppose  we  have  a  bottle  of  cham 
pagne  before  returning  to  Paris.  Here, 
waiter!  " 

Francois  immediately  responded  with 
a  bottle  of  champagne. 

De  Meneval  had  never  supposed  that 
anything  would  be  too  pressing  to  drag 
him  away  from  good  champagne,  but 
he  inwardly  swore,  as  Leontine  silently 
fretted,  at  the  delay  that  might  prevent 
him  from  making  the  next  train  to 
Paris.  Both  of  them  gulped  down  the 
champagne  rather  than  drank  it,  while 
Papa  Bouchard,  alleging  that  he  had 
already  taken  several  glasses,  declined 
any  more.  Every  moment  or  two  he 
looked  at  his  watch,  and  he  said  to 
Leontine : 

"  Will  you  be  going  back  to  Paris 
to-night,  Leontine  ?  " 

"  Indeed  I  shall,"  eagerly  replied 
Leontine.  "  I  shall  go  back  with  you." 
183 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  But  I  sha'n't  be  going  back  till  the 
midnight  train.  You  see  I  am  begin 
ning  to  keep  late  hours,  to  make  up  for 
lost  time,  and  that  will  be  too  late  for 
you.  Why  can't  you  remain  at  de 
Meneval's  quarters  ?  " 

u  I  have  an  engagement  early  to 
morrow  morning,"  replied  Leontine, 
who  was  determined  to  get  to  Paris 
as  quickly  as  she  could  and  make 
some  private  inquiries  on  her  own 
account  concerning  Madame  Vernet. 
The  same  intention  was  fixed  in  de 
Meneval's  mind.  Therefore  he  said  : 

"Never  mind,  Leontine;  I  am  off 
duty  till  twelve  o'clock  to-morrow,  and 
I  will  take  you  to  Paris  to-night,  if  you 
wish." 

At  which  Leontine,  looking  very 
blank,  replied  : 

u  Oh,  very  well.  That  will  be 
nice." 

tc  Now,  why  are  you  in  such  a  hurry 
to  get  to  Paris  ?  "  asked  Papa  Bouchard. 
"The  next  train  is  always  crowded  — 
184 


Papa  Bouchard 

not  a   seat    to   be   had   in   a    first-class 
compartment   for  love   or   money,   and 
it   makes  a  stop  of  only  two  minutes 
and      a      half; 
unless     one     is 
already    at   the 
station      it      is 
almost    impos- 


sible    to    make    it,    and 
you  see  it  is  now  within 
a   few   minutes  of  the  train." 

While  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  speak 
ing  he  was  putting  on   his  gloves  and 
making   for  the  garden   door,   and    the 
de    Menevals,   each    carefully    avoiding 
185 


Papa  Bouchard 

an  appearance  of  haste,  were  following 
him.  Everybody  had  forgotten  that  the 
champagne  was  not  paid  for,  except 
Francois. 

"  So,"  kept  on  Papa  Bouchard,  still 
edging  away,  "  you  will  go  by  the  late 
train ;  perhaps  I  '11  wait  for  it  myself." 

At  that  moment  the  shriek  of  the 
locomotive  resounded.  Immediately 
every  pretense  of  waiting  for  the  other 
train  vanished.  All  three  of  them 
bolted  for  the  exit  to  the  garden. 
Francois  rushed  after  them,  bawling, 
"Your  bill,  Monsieur  —  the  cham 
pagne —  and  the  tip  —  "while  the 
parrot,  suddenly  wakened  from  a  nap, 
uttered  a  screech  of  demoniac  laughter 
and  began  to  yell  after  Papa  Bou 
chard's  rapidly  retreating  figure : 

u  Bad  boy  Bouchard  !  bad  boy  Bou 
chard  !  " 


186 


Chapter  III 

ANYONE  who  saw  Monsieur 
Bouchard  a  week  after  his 
adventures  at  the  Pigeon  House  would 
have  said  that  the  excellent  man  had 
grown  ten  years  older  in  that  time. 
For  he  had  endured  more  cares,  anxie 
ties,  worries,  vexations,  apprehensions 
and  palpitations  in  that  one  week  in 
the  Rue  Bassano  than  in  all  his  thirty 
years  in  the  Rue  Clarisse.  Not  that 
Monsieur  Bouchard  had  the  slightest 
desire  to  go  back  to  his  old  life.  Not 
at  all.  In  the  Rue  Bassano  he  at  least 
lived ;  in  the  Rue  Clarisse  he  had  merely 
vegetated. 

In  the  first  place,  on  his  arrival  at 
his  apartment  shortly  after  midnight  on 
that  fateful  evening  spent  at   Me'lun  he 
187 


Papa  Bouchard 

had  been  unable  to  find  out  anything 
at  all  about  Madame  Vernet.  The 
concierge  had  gone  to  bed  when  he  got 
home,  and  he  dared  not  disturb  the 
whole  house  at  that  hour.  He  spent 
a  sleepless  night,  with  Pierre  snoring 
peacefully  in  the  next  room.  The 
fellow  had  not  come  home  till  two 
o'clock  in  the  morning.  Monsieur 
Bouchard  utilized  the  watches  of  the 
night  in  making  up  a  story  to  tell  the 
concierge  to  account  for  the  enquiries  he 
meant  to  make  concerning  Madame 
Vernet.  A  concierge,  he  well  knew,  is 
the  nearest  approach  to  an  omniscient 
being  on  this  planet.  It  was  compara 
tively  easy  to  concoct  a  tale  that  would 
go  on  four  legs,  in  the  expressive  phrase 
of  his  countrymen.  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  was  vastly  pleased  with  his  own 
shrewdness  when  he  paused  to  think 
of  the  facility  with  which  he  invented 
his  story.  But  to  get  it  accepted  at  its 
face  value  —  ah,  that  was  another  thing. 
At  six  o'clock  in  the  morning  he 
1 88 


Papa  Bouchard 

tiptoed  down  stairs  in  his  dressing 
gown  and  slippers.  The  concierge, 
yawning,  was  just  opening  the  shutters 
in  her  little  den. 

"  Can  you  tell  me,  my  good  wo 
man,"  said  Monsieur  Bouchard,  in 
a  manner  calculated  to  allay  any  sus 
picions  the  concierge  might  have  —  if 
anything  can  allay  the  suspicions  of 
a  concierge  — "  whether  Madame  Ver- 
net  arrived  here  last  night  —  in  fact,  if 
she  is  in  the  house  at  present  ?  I  ask 
because  I  promised  her  aunt  and  uncle 
out  at  Melun  last  evening  to  escort  her 
in,  and  by  some  accident  we  became 
separated  in  the  railway  station,  and  I 
am  considering  what  apology  I  shall 
make  to  her  aunt  and  uncle — very 
worthy  people  at  Melun." 

The  concierge  looked  at  poor  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  not  with  suspicion, 
but  with  certainty  in  her  eye.  The 
very  expression  of  her  face  called  him  a 
liar  and  a  villain,  as  she  replied,  coolly  : 

"  Madame  Vernet  did  come  in  last 
189 


Papa  Bouchard 

night  and  left  the  house  at  five  o'clock 
this  morning,  to  visit  her  aunt  and 
uncle  at  Chalons." 

By  which  Monsieur  Bouchard,  who 
was  no  fool,  found  out  three  things  : 
first,  that  Madame  Vernet  had  been 
beforehand  with  the  concierge ;  second, 
that  Madame  Vernet  did  not  have  an 
aunt  and  uncle  at  Chalons,  although 
she  seemed  to  have  uncles  and  aunts 
in  every  town,  village  and  hamlet  in 
France ;  and  third,  that  wherever  she 
might  be  she  certainly  was  not  at 
Chalons. 

He  spent  the  next  three  days  in 
vain  efforts  to  find  out  Madame 
Vernet's  whereabouts.  The  concierge 
had  evidently  been  thoroughly  bought 
and  coached,  and  would  absolutely  tell 
nothing.  Madame  Vernet  had  taken 
her  apartment  by  the  month,  and  had 
paid  in  advance.  The  concierge  knew 
no  more.  Not  even  a  ten-franc  piece 
could  screw  any  additional  information 
out  of  her. 

190 


Papa  Bouchard 

Papa  Bouchard  began  to  feel  a  little 
frightened.  What  would  happen  if  it 
should  come  out  in  the  newspapers,  as 
Leontine  had  threatened  ?  There  were 
journalists  enough  in  Paris  ready  to 
jump  at  such  a  story  as  Leontine  had 
hinted  at.  There  was  that  Marsac, 
and  the  remarkable  tale  he  had  con 
cocted  about  a  bogus  fortune  —  Papa 
Bouchard  recalled  at  least  a  dozen  in 
stances  that  were  frightfully  like  what 
he  apprehended.  When  this  thought 
occurred  to  him  he  bit  the  pillows  in  his 
anguish  —  it  was  in  the  middle  of  one 

D 

of  his  sleepless  nights.  And  what  glee 
would  those  laughing  devils  of  news 
paper  men  have  out  of  him  !  And 
how  should  he  ever  show  his  face  in 
the  Rue  Clarisse  ?  Monsieur  Bouchard 
made  up  his  mind  that  if  ever  the  thing 
got  into  the  newspapers  he  should  emi 
grate  to  Madagascar. 

Of  course,  Pierre  knew  all  about  it. 
Monsieur  Bouchard   had  told  him  too 
much    not   to   tell    him    more.      Pierre 
191 


Papa  Bouchard 

was  only  moderately  sympathetic, 
which  infuriated  Monsieur  Bouchard. 

"At  least,"  cried  the  poor  gentle 
man,  "  those  two  scamps,  Leontine 
and  de  Meneval,  are  in  as  much  trou 
ble  as  I  am." 

"  But  they  have  the  necklace,"  re 
plied  Pierre,  "  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
Monsieur  is  in  a  jolly  hole,  with  his 
necklaces  and  his  widows,  and  all  the 
rest  of  it." 

Monsieur  Bouchard,  at  this,  burst 
into  a  string  of  bad  words  that  were 
very  reprehensible,  but  perfectly  nat 
ural  to  a  man  in  his  imminent  circum 
stances. 

However  Pierre  might  choose  to 
devil  his  master  in  private,  in  public  he 
was  unflinchingly  loyal  to  him.  In  the 
first  place,  Leontine  and  de  Meneval, 
each  determined  to  force  an  explana 
tion  from  Monsieur  Bouchard,  haunted 
the  Rue  Bassano,  and  when  they  did 
not  come  they  wrote.  It  was  easy 
enough  to  dispose  of  the  frantic  notes 
192 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  letters,  but  when  the  two  came  — 
always  separately  —  and  Leontine  wept 
and  raved  that  she  would  and  must  see 
Papa  Bouchard,  and  de  Meneval  swore 
and  stormed  to  the  same  effect,  Pierre 
was  immovable.  Monsieur  was  one 
day  at  Passy,  another  he  was  at  Ver 
sailles,  always  on  important  business, 
and  Pierre  never  had  the  least  idea 
when  he  would  be  home.  Thus,  by 
unceasing  vigilance  and  an  unabashed 
front,  Pierre  managed  to  stave  off  an 
interview  between  his  master  and  the 
de  Menevals  for  the  whole  of  a  critical 
week. 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  was  easier 
to  manage.  Pierre  went  to  the  Rue 
Clarisse  daily,  with  a  very  acceptable  tale 
about  Monsieur  Bouchard  being  so  busy 
making  the  will  of  a  rich  old  gentle 
man  at  Passy  that  he  had  no  time  for 
anything  else;  likewise,  that  he  was 
finding  the  noise  and  commotion  of  the 
Rue  Bassano  so  objectionable  that  he 
bitterly  regretted  having  left  the  Rue 
'3  193 


Papa  Bouchard 

Clarisse.  This  little  romance  took  so 
well  that  Pierre  improved  on  it  by  say 
ing  that  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  try 
ing  to  sublet  the  apartment,  so  he  could 
return  to  peace  and  quiet  in  the  Rue 
Clarisse.  Mademoiselle  Bouchard  was 
touched,  charmed,  delighted  to  hear 
this. 

Not  so  Elise.  She  was  not  of  a 
trusting  or  confiding  nature.  When 
Pierre  turned  up,  late  in  the  day, 
yawning,  and  still  only  half-awake, 
she  did  not  believe  in  the  least  his 
account  of  being  kept  awake  by  the 
noises  of  the  carts  and  carriages  in 
the  Rue  Bassano.  She  boldly  taxed 
him  with  leading  a  riotous  life,  which 
Pierre  strenuously  denied,  and  going 
to  Mademoiselle  Bouchard,  actually 
wept  over  Elise's  want  of  confidence 
in  him  after  thirty  years  of  married 
life.  Mademoiselle  sharply  rebuked 
Elise,  and  ordered  her  henceforth  to 
believe  everything  Pierre  told  her. 
Elise  made  no  reply  to  this  beyond 
194 


Papa  Bouchard 

her  usual  sniff,  but  privately  resolved 
the  first  day  she  had  time  to  slip 
around  to  the  Rue  Bassano  and  inter 
view  the  concierge.  She  knew  the  ways 
of  concierges  as  well  as  the  ways  of  men. 

For  four  days  Monsieur  Bouchard 
gave  himself,  body  and  bones,  to  the 
business  of  a  private  detective  in  try 
ing  to  locate  Madame  Vernet.  Vain 
effort !  He  of  course  expected  to 
have  to  pay  handsomely  for  the  re 
turn  of  the  paste  necklace,  but  he 
valued  his  peace  of  mind  more  than 
money,  and  was  ready  enough  to 
come  down  with  some  cash  provided 
he  could  get  hold  of  the  necklace. 

On  the  fifth  day  he  was  delighted, 
but  scarcely  surprised,  to  receive  a 
letter  from  Madame  Vernet  saying 
that,  as  there  seemed  to  be  some 
complications  concerning  the  neck 
lace  he  had  so  generously  and  sweetly 
given  her,  and  as  she  was  a  person 
of  much  delicacy  of  feeling,  she  was 
seriously  thinking  of  returning  it.  He 


Papa  Bouchard 

could  address  her  at  the  Pigeon  House 
at  Melun. 

Monsieur  Bouchard  replied  by  writ 
ing  and  flatly  offering  her  five  hundred 
francs,  nearly  six  times  the  original  value 
of  the  necklace.  He  himself  took  his 
letter  out  to  the  Pigeon  House,  and 
spent  the  entire  evening  there,  on  the 
chance  that  Madame  Vernet  might 
turn  up.  She  did  not,  however. 
Next  day  he  received  a  letter  from 
her,  all  reproaches  and  hysterics  ;  how 
could  he  offer  her  money  !  —  her, 
the  most  disinterested,  the  most  retir 
ing  of  her  sex  !  Money  was  nothing 
to  her,  least  of  all  a  trifling  sum  of  five 
hundred  francs.  Monsieur  Bouchard 
promptly  replied,  increasing  his  offer  to 
a  thousand  francs.  Another  deeply 
injured  note  from  Madame  Vernet. 
At  last,  after  five  days  of  continual 
negotiation,  Monsieur  Bouchard  haunt 
ing  the  Pigeon  House  every  evening, 
terms  were  arranged  —  two  thousand 
francs  in  exchange  for  the  necklace. 
196 


Papa  Bouchard 

It  was  infamous,  but  as  Pierre  re 
minded  Monsieur  Bouchard,  one  must 
always  pay  for  one's  indiscretions. 
It  would  seem  as  if  Madame  Vernet 
had  the  direct  inspiration  of  Satan 
himself  in  dealing  with  the  too  amiable 
and  too  susceptible  Monsieur  Bouchard. 
Not  only  had  she  given  her  address 
all  along  as  the  Pigeon  House,  but 
she  appointed  that  abode  of  gayety 
and  champagne  as  the  rendezvous 
where  she  was  to  meet  Monsieur 
Bouchard  and  hand  over  the  necklace 
in  return  for  two  thousand  francs 
in  notes  of  the  Bank  of  France  — 
Madame  Vernet  specified  that  there 
should  be  no  cheque  in  the  affair;  she 
was  so  diffident;  it  always  embarrassed 
her  to  go  to  a  bank,  and  notes  could 
be  passed  anywhere. 

But  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  not 
wholly  without  discretion.  He  con 
cluded  he  would  rather  not  be  seen  in 
the  act  of  handing  over  the  money  to 
Madame  Vernet.  Pierre — the  foxy 
197 


Papa  Bouchard 

Pierre  —  should  give  her  the  money 
and  should  receive  the  necklace.  So, 
on  the  evening  specified,  the  two  took 
the  train  for  Melun,  and  went  rattling 
out  of  Paris  without  dreaming  of  what 
was  brewing  be 
hind  them  and 
likewise  stewing 
ahead  of  them. 

It    was    simply 
this :     Elise     had 
that  evening  found 
her  opportunity  to 
go  around  to  the 
Rue  Bassano,  and 
in  five  minutes  she 
had     discovered 
everything    Mon 
sieur    Bouchard   and    Pierre    had    been 
doing  since  they  left  the   Rue  Clarisse. 
The  concierge  knew  all   about  the  chase 
after    Madame    Vernet,    the    continual 
trotting  out  to  Melun  —  nay,  she  knew 
that  both  Pierre  and  his  master  had  an 
appointment   with   Madame   Vernet   at 
198 


Papa  Bouchard 

the  Pigeon  House  that  very  evening. 
Elise  returned,  boiling  with  rage,  to 
the  Rue  Clarisse,  and  with  face  and 
eyes  blazing  recounted  to  the  tremb 
ling  and  agitated  Mademoiselle  Bou 
chard  the  horrid  story  of  the  frightful 
goings  on  in  the  Rue  Bassano.  And 
she  had  for  audience  not  only  poor 
Mademoiselle  Bouchard,  but  Leontine 
de  Meneval,  who  happened  to  be  pay 
ing  her  weekly  visit  to  Rue  Clarisse. 
Leontine  scarcely  heard  Elise's  fierce 
denunciations  of  the  two  reprobates 
in  the  Rue  Bassano;  all  she  really 
took  in  was  the  correspondence  and 
the  running  to  and  fro  about  the  neck 
lace.  She  flew  from  the  apartment, 
leaving  Mademoiselle  Bouchard  in  a 
state  of  collapse  on  the  sofa,  while 
Elise  retailed  every  circumstance  of 
horror  she  had  found  out  about  the 
renegades.  Calling  the  first  cab, 
Leontine  drove  rapidly  home,  rushed 
to  her  strong-box,  and  got  the  sup 
posed  paste  necklace  out.  She  had 
199 


Papa  Bouchard 

said  to    Monsieur    Bouchard   that  any 
body  could  tell  at  a  glance  that   it  was 


an  imitation,  yet  it  so  glowed  and 
sparkled  in  its  white  radiance  that  for 
the  first  time  she  began  to  suspect  it 


Papa  Bouchard 

was  real.  If  so,  it  only  deepened  the 
mystery,  and  she  felt  she  must  solve 
it  then  and  there.  Again  ordering  a 
cab,  she  sprang  into  it  and  ordered  the 
cabman  to  drive  her  to  one  of  the 
great  jewelry  shops  in  the  Avenue 
de  1'Opera.  On  reaching  it  she 
ordered  the  carriage  to  wait,  and  going 
into  the  shop,  asked  to  see  the  pro 
prietor.  He  advanced,  politely,  and 
Leontine,  taking  the  necklace  from 
about  her  neck,  where  she  wore  it 
under  her  high  bodice,  said,  with  such 
calmness  as  she  could  muster : 

"  Will  you  kindly  give  me  some  idea 
of  the  value  of  this  ?  " 

The  jeweller  took  it  up,  examined  it 
for  a  moment,  and  said  : 

"  About  forty  thousand  francs,  I 
should  say,  Madame.  The  stones  are 
remarkably  well  matched,  better  than 
in  many  costlier  necklaces." 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  the  stones 
are  —  are " 

"  Well  matched,  Madame.     In  fact, 

2OI 


Papa  Bouchard 

some  of  them  came  from  this  establish 
ment.  It  was  made  by  M.  Leduc,  a 
friend  of  mine,  and  I  assisted  him." 

"Thank  you,"  replied  Leontine, 
forcing  herself  to  be  calm,  reclasping 
the  necklace  round  her  throat  and  cov 
ering  it  up.  She  went  out,  got  into  the 
cab  again,  and  hesitated  before  giving 
her  order.  She  was  in  truth  quite 
dazed  and  mystified.  The  man  had 
touched  his  hat  three  times,  when  she 
said,  with  an  air  of  quiet  determination  : 
"  To  the  St.  Lazare  station." 
Yes,  she  would  that  very  moment 
go  and  confess  all  to  Victor.  Her  re 
solution  seemed  an  inspiration.  There 
was  some  mystery  about  the  necklace, 
and  it  was  only  fair  that  Victor  should 
know  it.  There  should  be  no  more 
concealments  between  them.  She 
reached  the  station  just  in  time  to  miss 
the  eight  o'clock  train.  It  was  still 
daylight,  and  she  waited  for  the  next  — 
a  very  slow  one.  Half-way  to  Melun 
the  engine  broke  down.  It  was  nearly 

202 


Papa  Bouchard 

eleven  o'clock  before  she  found  herself 
in  front  of  the  huge  old  barrack  building 
in  which  de  Meneval  had  his  quarters. 
The  orderly  who  took  the  place  of 


concierge  at  once  recognized  her  and 
politely  escorted  her  to  Captain  de 
Meneval's  door. 

"  I  do  not  think   Monsieur  le  Capi- 
taine  is  in   at  present,"  he  said  ;   "  but 
if  Madame  will  wait,  he  will   no  doubt 
203 


Papa  Bouchard 

be  here    shortly."       And    he  knocked 
loudly  at  the  door. 

It  was  opened  by  a  soldier  —  de 
Meneval's  servant  —  whom  Leontine 
had  never  seen  before.  The  man's 
unfamiliar  face,  and  the  unlooked-for 
sight  that  met  her  eyes  as  soon  as  she 
stepped  over  the  threshold,  made  her 
turn  as  if  to  go  out.  In  the  middle  of 
the  room  was  spread  a  table,  with  prepa 
rations  for  an  elaborate  supper;  and 
Leontine's  quick  eye  discovered  that 
ladies  were  expected,  for  to  three  huge 
bouquets  were  appended  cards  with 
names  written  on  them.  u  For  the 
Sprightly  Aglaia,"  "For  Olga,  the 
Queen  of  the  Dance  ;  "  "  For  Louise 
of  the  Fairy  Foot." 

Leontine,  slightly  embarrassed,  said 
to  the  soldier  : 

"  I  see  I  have  made  a  mistake.  I 
am  Madame  de  Meneval,  and  I  sup 
posed  these  to  be  Captain  de  Men 
eval's  quarters,  but  evidently  they  are 
not !  " 

204 


Papa  Bouchard 

"They  are,  Madame,"  replied  the 
man,  very  civilly. 

"  But  I  say  they  are  not !  "  replied 
Leontine,  somewhat  tartly.  "  Captain 
de  Meneval  never  entertains  ladies  at 
supper.  He  leads  a  most  retired  life  at 
Melun,  while  here  are  preparations 
made  for  a  gay  party." 

"  Pardon,  Madame ;  but  Monsieur  le 
Capitaine  is  giving  the  party  to  some 
young  ladies  from  the  Pigeon  House." 

Leontine's  first  impulse  was  to  box 
the  soldier's  ears,  but  in  sweeping 
another  glance  round  the  room  she 
recognized  her  own  picture  over  the 
mantel,  together  with  a  battered  photo 
graph  of  de  Meneval's  chum,  Major 
Falliere,  and  other  things  to  convince 
her  that  Captain  de  Meneval  was  really 
the  host  of  the  impending  supper  party. 
She  retained  self-possession  enough  to 
say  to  the  man  : 

"If  you  have  finished  you  may  go." 
And  he  discreetly  vanished. 

Leontine,  throwing  her  parasol  on  the 
205 


Papa  Bouchard 

sofa,  began  to  march  up  and  down  the 
room  in  wrath  and  excitement. 

"  These  are  his  quiet  evenings!  He 
does  n't  know  anything  about  the 
Pigeon  House  since  he  was  married  ! 
I  shouldn't  have  minded  it  if  he  had 
told  me  all  about  it,  but  to  pretend  to 
such  economies,  and  at  the  same  time 
be  secretly  indulging  in  these  extrav 
agances —  these  shameless  orgies — oh, 
it  is  too  much!  " 

Leontine  had  completely  forgotten 
Putzki  and  Louise  and  the  object  of 
her  sudden  descent  on  her  husband. 
While  she  was  walking  up  and  down, 
becoming  every  moment  more  angry 
and  wrought  up,  the  door  opened,  and 
in  walked  Major  Falliere.  Leontine 
recognized  him  at  once  from  his  pic 
ture  —  a  soldierly  looking  man,  slightly 
bald,  immaculately  well  dressed,  and 
bearing  in  his  air  the  reason  for  his  so 
briquet,  the  Pink  of  Military  Propriety. 
But  his  eye  was  not  unkind  ;  on  the 
contrary,  he  was  distinctly  in  the  class 
206 


Papa  Bouchard 

of  men  designated  by  women  as  dear 
old  things  ;  and  as  such  Leontine  felt 
an  instant  confidence  in  him. 

The  correct  Major  was  not  so  cor 
rect,  however,  that  he  hesitated  to 
march  up  to  Leontine,  and  chucking 
her  playfully  under  the  chin,  remarked  : 

"The  Pigeons  are  out  early  to-night. 
Where  are  the  rest  of  the  Pouters  ?  " 

Leontine's  face  was  a  study.  A 
flash  of  rage  from  her  bright  eyes  was 
succeeded  by  a  look  of  puzzled  help 
lessness,  and  then  a  radiant  smile  of  de 
light.  This  was  really  too  good.  He 
—  old  P.  M.  P.  —  had  mistaken  her, 
Leontine  de  Meneval,  for  one  of  the 
young  ladies  from  the  Pigeon  House  ! 
Angry  as  she  was,  she  could  not  for 
bear  laughing,  and  she  replied,  with  her 
sauciest  air: 

"  Oh,  they  '11  be  here  presently.  I 
came  early  because  I  had  a  premonition 
that  old  P.  M.  P.  would  be  here  early, 
too.  Always  on  time  —  one  of  the 
cardinal  virtues  of  a  soldier."  And 
207 


Papa  Bouchard 

then  Satan  tempted  her  to  tiptoe  and 
actually  chuck  old  P.  M.  P.  under  the 
chin  [ 

The  effect  frightened  her  for  a  mo 
ment  or  two,  because  Major  Falliere, 
perfectly  astounded  and 
highly  offended,  drew 
himself  up  stiffly  and 
glared  at  her  like 
an  ogre.  But  she 
was  so  very  pretty, 
her  impertinence 
was  accompanied 
with  such  a  charm 
ing  air  of  simplicity, 
that  no  man 
not  an  abso- 
lute  ogre  could 
withstand  it. 
So,  in  spite  of  himself,  old  P.  M.  P.'s 
backbone  relaxed,  his  eyes  softened 
and  he  tugged  at  his  mustache  to  dis 
guise  the  smile  that  would  persist  in 
coming. 

Leontine  having  once  admitted  Satan 
208 


Papa  Bouchard 

into  her  heart,  he  speedily  took  com 
plete  possession  of  the  premises,  and 
the  next  thing  he  inspired  her  to  do 
was  to  examine  the  prim  Major  care 
fully  from  the  top  of  his  thinly  thatched 
head  down  to  the  tips  of  his  well-fitting 
shoes,  and  say  to  him  : 

"  I  have  often  heard  of  you,  and  I 
am  so  glad  to  meet  you.  You  know 
you  are  quite  a  handsome  man,  Major." 

The  Major  grinned. 

"  For  your  age,  that  is." 

The  Major  scowled. 

"  And  1  like  you  well  enough  to 
wish  to  make  friends  with  you.  But 
first  I  must  tell  you  my  name.  It  is 
Satanita." 

"  Satanita  !     Rather  suggestive,  eh  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  so.  Little  Satan  ;  and 
I  match  my  name." 

"You  are  the  sweetest,  most  inno 
cent  and  captivating  little  devil  I  ever 
saw." 

"  Thank  you.  You  should  see  me 
dance  and  hear  me  sing.  The  Pouters, 
14  209 


Papa  Bouchard 

as  you  call  them,  are  not  a  patch  on 
me." 

"  I  can  well  believe  it." 

"  I  have  another  name  —  I  am 
called  the  Queen  of  the  Harem- 
Scarem." 

"  No  doubt  you  are." 

"  Now,"  continued  Leontine,  seating 
herself  with  a  confidential  air  beside 
Major  Falliere,  uwhat  do  you  think  of 
our  host,  Victor  de  Meneval  ?  " 

"  One  of  the  best  fellows  in  the 
world." 

"  Devoted  to  his  wife,  eh  ?  " 

"  Yes.  I  have  never  seen  her,  but 
I  hear  she  is  a  charming  creature,  and 
Victor  is  truly  attached  to  her." 

"  This  looks  like  it,  does  n't  it  ?  " 
cried  Leontine,  pointing  to  the  supper 
table. 

"  I  don't  see  that  it  does  n't  look  like 
it.  I  happen  to  know  that  de  Meneval 
has  had  a  good  deal  to  trouble  him 
lately.  He  got  some  money  from  an 
unexpected  source  some  days  ago,  and 
210 


Papa  Bouchard 

1  advised  him  to  give  a  little  supper  — 
it's  dull  out  here,  you  know " 

"  You  advised  him  to  give  a  little 
supper!  You  —  the  Pink  of  Military 
Propriety  !  " 

u  Yes,  why  not  ?  " 

"  And  how  about  his  wife  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  replied  the  Major,  with  easy 
confidence,  "  she  would  probably  make 
an  awful  row  if  she  knew  it  —  but 
she'll  never  know  it.  De  Meneval  has 
coached  me  —  I  know  exactly  what  to 
tell  Leontine  when  I  meet  her  —  it  so 
happens  that  I  have  not  met  her  yet. 
But  I  hear  she  is  a  charming  young 
woman." 

"  She  will  be  twice  as  charming  to 
you  when  she  finds  that  you  have  been 
leading  her  husband  off  into  giving 
suppers  to  —  to  —  little  devils  like  me 
for  example,"  said  Leontine,  very 
solemnly. 

"  Oh,  de  Meneval  and  I  have  mapped 
out  our  campaign.  We  have  a  large 
and  trusty  assortment  of  lies,  expressly 

211 


Papa  Bouchard 

for    Leontine's    consumption,  and    she 
will  swallow  every  one  of  them." 

Now,  this  was  very  provoking  of 
the  Major,  but  something  in  his  kind 
eyes,  his  way  of  standing  up  for  Vic 
tor,  his  candid  praise  of  herself,  gave 
Leontine  a  sudden  impulse  to  tell  him  the 
whole  story  of  what  was  weighing  on 
her  and  perplexing  her  and  had  driven 
her  out  to  Melun  at  that  hour  of  the 
night.  She  knew  all  about  him,  what 
a  generous,  sympathetic  fellow  he  was, 
in  spite  of  his  primness  and  propriety 

—  in    short,   that    he   was    a    dear    old 
thing.      So,    with     eyes     flashing    with 
mischief,  and  with  smiles  dimpling  her 
fair  face,  Leontine  said,  demurely  : 

u  I    have   still   another  name  besides 
Satanita    and    Queen    of   the     Harem- 
Scarem.      Can't  you  guess  it  ?  " 
"  No.      I  am  not  a  clairvoyant." 
"  I  am  —  "  Leontine  rose,  with  her 
whole  face  sparkling  with  impish  delight 

—  "  I  am  Leontine,  Madame  de  Men- 
eval,   wife   of  your  friend,    Victor    ^e 

212 


Papa  Bouchard 

Meneval.       Yonder     is     my     picture. 
Here   am   I." 

Poor  P.  M.  P!  He  stared  at  her 
for  a  full  minute,  glared  wildly  about 
him,  and  then,  jumping  up,  made  a 
dash  for  the  door,  from  which  Leon- 
tine,  laughing  till  the  tears  ran  down 
her  cheeks,  dragged  him  back. 

"  What  are  you  running  away  for  ?  " 
she  asked,  forcing  him  to  a  seat  beside 
her. 

"Because  —  because  —  "  the  Major 
tore  his  hair,  "  oh,  de  Meneval  will 
certainly  shoot  me  when  he  hears  that 
I  chucked  you  under  the  chin  ! " 

"  But  he  won't  hear  it,  unless  you 
tell  him.  And  /  chucked  you  under 
the  chin,  remember." 

Major  Falliere,  burying  his  head  in 
his  hands,  groaned  aloud,  and  then 
all  at  once  the  absurdity  of  the  thing 
struck  him,  and  he  burst  into  a  howl 
of  laughter. 

Leontine  joined  him.     They  laughed 
and    laughed,    and    when    they    would 
213 


Papa  Bouchard 

get  a  little  quiet  Leontine  would  mo 
tion  as  if  to  chuck  him  under  the  chin 
again,  and  Falliere  would  go  off  into 
renewed  spasms. 

Presently,    however,    Leontine  grew 


grave.  The  instant  success  of  her  im 
promptu  personation  had  given  her  an 
idea.  She  wanted  revenge  —  a  sharp 
revenge  —  on  de  Meneval,  and  she  saw 
a  way  to  get  it. 

"Listen,  and   be  quiet,"  she   said   to 
214 


Papa  Bouchard 

Falliere.  "  Victor  deserves  to  be 
punished.  I  will  tell  you  why.  He 
has  always  represented  to  me  that  he 
led  the  quietest  kind  of  a  life  here  — 
nothing  but  attention  to  his  military 
duties,  and  his  evenings  spent  in  the 
seclusion  of  his  own  room,  with  noth 
ing  but  ballistics  and  my  picture  for 
company." 

Falliere  could  not  refrain  from  a 
soft  whistle. 

"  And  he  professed  to  be  so  glad 
that  you  were  ordered  to  Melun,  be 
cause  you  were  so  much  more  sedate 
than  the  other  officers.  He  com 
plained  that  they  spend  too  much 
time  at  the  Pigeon  House,  while  he 
had  entirely  given  up  frequenting  that 
fascinating  place." 

Falliere  whistled  a  little  louder. 

"  I  had  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
persuading  him  to  take  me  to  supper 
there  the  other  night.  Now,  what  do 
I  find  ?  That  he  has  been  throwing: 

O 

sand     into     my     eyes     all     the     time. 
2I5 


Papa  Bouchard 

Look  !  "  Leontine  waved  her  arms  dra 
matically  toward  the  table.  tc  Ought  n't 
he  to  be  punished  ?  " 

"  Certainly  he  ought,"  replied  Fal- 
liere,  with  the  ready  acquiescence  of 
a  bachelor  who  thinks  that  married 
men  should  be  made  to  toe  the  line. 

"  Very  well.      You  will  help  me  ?  " 

"  You  may  count  on  me." 

Leontine  rose  and  looked  around 
her.  On  the  sideboard  sat  a  couple  of 
bottles  of  mineral  water,  and  on  the 
floor  near  by  a  wine  cooler  full  of  bot 
tles  of  champagne.  She  cleverly  trans 
ferred  the  labels  from  two  of  the 
champagne  bottles  to  the  apollinaris 
bottles  and  then  put  them  in  the  wine 
cooler. 

"  I  think  I  can  drink  at  least  a  quart 
of  apollinaris,"  she  said. 

"  And  I  '11  see  that  you  get  apolli 
naris  every  time,"  replied  that  crafty 
villain  of  a  Falliere,  laughing. 

"And  I  'm  Satanita,  and  I  shall  act 
Satanita  until  I  have  made  Victor 
216 


Papa  Bouchard 

sorry  enough  he  ever  played  me  any 
tricks." 

"  Oh,  no,  you  won't !  At  the  first 
sign  of  distress  on  his  part  you  will 
throw  the  whole  business  to  the  winds, 
fall  on  his  neck  and  implore  his  for 
giveness.  I  know  women  well." 

"  Of  course  you  do  — having  never 
been  married.  But  wait  and  see  if  I 
don't  give  him  a  bad  quarter  of  an 
hour.  And  I  reckon  on  your  assist 
ance." 

"  I  will  stand  by  you  to  the  last." 

They  were  interrupted  at  this  point 
by  a  great  sound  of  scuffling  outside 
the  door,  mingled  with  shrieks  of  girl 
ish  laughter.  The  door  flew  open, 
revealing  three  remarkably  pretty 
girls  —  Aglaia,  Olga  and  Louise  — 
dragging  in  an  elderly  gentleman  by 
main  force  and  his  coat  tails.  The 
elderly  gentleman  was  resisting  mildly 
but  with  no  great  vigor,  and  it  was 
plain  he  was  not  particularly  averse 
to  the  roguish  company  in  which  he 
217 


Papa  Bouchard 

found  himself.     And  the  elderly  gen 
tleman  was  —  Papa  Bouchard ! 

One  of  these  merry  imps  from  the 
Pigeon  House  had  possessed  herself  of 
his  hat,  which  she  had  stuck  on  her 


curly  head  ;  another  one  had  laid  vio 
lent  hands  on  his  umbrella,  while  the 
third  and  sauciest  of  the  lot,  Aglaia, 
had  robbed  him  of  his  spectacles, 
which  she  wore  on  her  tiptilted  nose. 
Papa  Bouchard,  puffing,  protesting; 
218 


Papa  Bouchard 

frightened,   but    laughing    in    spite    of 
himself,  was  saying  : 

"  Young  ladies,  young  ladies,  I 
really  cannot  remain,  as  you  insist,  to 
supper.  I  do  not  even  know  the  name 
of  the  host  on  this  occasion.  I  am 
quite  unused  to  these  orgies.  I  am 
out  here  this  evening  with  my  servant 
merely  for  the  purpose  of  completing  a 
business  transaction." 

A  chorus  of  "  Ohs  !  "  and  «  Ahs  I " 
saluted  this  speech,  and  Mademoiselle 
Aglaia,  Papa  Bouchard's  chief  tor 
mentor,  asked,  solemnly  : 

"  Is  your  business  engagement  with 
a  lady  or  a  gentleman  ?  " 

And  when  Papa  Bouchard,  in  the 
innocence  of  his  soul,  replied,  "  It  is 
with  a  lady,"  each  one  of  the  Pouters, 
as  the  young  ladies  of  the  Pigeon 
House  were  called,  pretended  to  fall 
over  in  a  dead  faint. 

Papa   Bouchard,  much   alarmed,   ran 
from    one  to    the    other,  trying  to  re 
vive  them  ;   but  while  he  was  rubbing 
219 


Papa  Bouchard 

the  brow  and  slapping  the  hands  of 
each  in  turn,  Louise  suddenly  came  to 
life,  and  running  and  locking  the  door, 
put  the  key  into  her  pocket,  so  that 
Papa  Bouchard  had  no  means  of  escape 


except  out  of  the  third-story  window 
or  up  the  chimney. 

And  at  that  moment  his  eye  fell  on 
Leontine. 

Pity  Papa  Bouchard  !  He  really 
had  no  intention  of  attending:  so  gay 

O  O     J 

a  party.  He  had  spent  the  whole  even 
ing  anxiously  watching  for  Madame 


220 


Papa  Bouchard 

Vernet.  She  had  not  arrived,  or  at 
least  had  not  seen  fit  to  reveal  herself, 
and  while  he  was  hovering  about  the 
entrance  to  the  terrace  garden  looking 
for  her,  these  three  merry  girls  had 
come  along,  had  swooped  down  on  him 
without  the  least  warning,  and  had  car 
ried  him  off  bodily  to  de  MenevaFs 
supper.  Papa  Bouchard  had  not  the 
slightest  idea  of  where  he  was  when  he 
was  plumped  down  in  Captain  de 
Meneval's  room.  But  one  look  around 
him  —  the  sight  of  Leontine  —  revealed 
his  whole  dreadful  predicament  to  him. 
It  was  too  much  for  poor  Papa 
Bouchard ! 

His  persecutors  having  permitted 
him  to  sit  on  a  chair,  he  endeavored 
to  recover  himself,  and  fanning  with 
his  handkerchief  in  great  agitation, 
he  debated  with  himself  what  to  do. 
Leontine,  meanwhile,  was  laughing  at 
him  without  a  sign  of  recognition. 

Papa  Bouchard,  presently  finding  his 
voice,  said  sternly  to  Leontine: 
221 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  May  I  ask  what  you  are  doing 
here  in  this  company  ? " 

To  which  Leontine,  with  pert  gayety, 
replied  : 

ct  And  may  I  ask  what  you  are  doing 
here  in  this  company  ? " 

"  I,"  said  Papa  Bouchard,  with  dig 
nity,  "am  here  by  accident,  and  by  the 
violence  of  these  young  women." 

"  Oh,  what  a  rib  !  "  cried  Olga. 
"  The  old  duffer  begged  us  to  let  him 
come.  We  tried  to  shake  him  off,  but 
we  couldn't.  Isn't  that  so,  Aglaia 
and  Louise  ?  " 

And  Aglaia  and  Louise  said  it  was 
so. 

Papa  Bouchard,  astounded  at  such 
duplicity,  glared  at  them,  but  the  only 
satisfaction  he  got  was  a  fillip  on  the 
nose  from  Aglaia  and  a  remark  to  the 
effect  that  he  and  the  truth  did  n't  live 
at  the  same  address.  Papa  Bouchard 
indignantly  turned  his  back  on  these 
traducers  and  again  opened  on  Leontine. 

u  I  am  amazed  —  amazed  at  your 
222 


Papa  Bouchard 

temerity.  What  shall  I  say  to  Cap 
tain  de  Meneval  when  I  see  him,  as  I 
shall  to-morrow  morning  ?  " 

"  Anything  you  like,"  was  Leon- 
tine's  laughing  answer. 

"  Leontine  de  Meneval,"  cried  Papa 
Bouchard,  much  enraged,  udo  you 
know  me^  your  guardian  and  trustee  ?  " 

"  No,  I  don't,"  responded  Leontine, 
nonchalantly.  u  I  never  saw  you  be 
fore." 

At  this,  shouts  of  laughter  came 
from  the  three  young  ladies,  and  they 
all  urged  Papa  Bouchard  to  stop  his 
wild  career  of  prevarication  and  learn 
to  tell  the  truth. 

Papa  Bouchard,  quite  beside  himself, 
turned  to  Major  Falliere. 

"  Sir,"  he  said,  solemnly,  "  you  wear 
the  uniform  of  an  officer,  and  I  pre 
sume  you  are  a  gentleman.  Believe 
me,  this  lady  — "  indicating  Leontine 
—  "  is  the  wife  of  a  brother  officer  of 
yours,  Captain  de  Meneval.  The 
truest  kindness  you  can  do  him  or  her 
223 


Papa  Bouchard 

is  to  persuade  her  to  leave  this  scene 

of    dissipation     and     return  to  Paris 
with   me." 

"  O-o-o-o-h  !  "    shrieked  the  three 


impish  girls  in  chorus.  "  What  an 
outrageous  proposition  !  And  she  says 
she  never  saw  the  man  before  !  " 

Papa  Bouchard,  still  appealing  to 
Major  Falliere,  continued,  earnestly  : 

"  Perhaps  this  misguided  girl  has  not 
224 


Papa  Bouchard 

told  you  that  she  is  Madame  Victor  de 
Meneval." 

"  She  told  me,"  quietly  replied  Major 
Falliere,  "that  she  was  simply  Satanita, 
a  singer  and  dancer."  • 

Papa  Bouchard  dropped  limply  on 
the  sofa  and  groaned  in  anguish  of 
heart.  But  now  was  heard  a  jaunty 
step  on  the  stair,  which  all  recognized 
as  de  Meneval's.  The  mischievous 
Aglaia  ran  forward  and  unlocked  the 
door,  and  in  stepped  de  Meneval, 
smiling  and  debonair. 

Now,  this  little  festivity  had  been 
his  sole  recreation  during  the  ten  mis 
erable  days  since  he  had  got  into  the 
complication  of  the  necklace  ;  and  the 
supper,  which  was  for  only  five,  was  at 
the  suggestion  of  the  Pink  of  Military 
Propriety.  So  it  was  without  any  com 
punctions  that  de  Meneval  walked  into 
his  quarters,  expecting  to  find  a  small 
but  jolly  party.  But  he  instantly 
recognized  the  two  uninvited  mem 
bers,  and  stopping  short  on  the  carpet, 
J5  225 


Papa  Bouchard 

his   ruddy   complexion  turned   a   sickly 
green. 

Papa  Bouchard  felt  a  sensation  of 
triumph  at  Captain  de  Meneval's  en 
trance.  //<?,  at  least,  would  not  dare  to 


deride  and  defy  him,  as  these  wretched 
young  women  had  done.  But  before 
Monsieur  Bouchard  could  open  his 
mouth,  Aglaia  burst  forth,  pointing  to 
the  old  gentleman  : 

u  Of  all   the   impudent   men   I  ever 
saw,  this  one   excels  !     What  do   you 
226 


Papa  Bouchard 

think  ?  As  soon  as  he  found  we  were 
coming  here  to  supper,  he  hung  on  to 
us  —  declared  there  was  nothing  he 
liked  so  well  as  a  gay  little  party,  that 
he  could  drink  so  much  champagne  he 
was  called  the  Champagne  Tank  — and 
actually  forced  himself  in  here,  although 
we  tried  to  push  him  out.  Did  n't  he, 
Olga  and  Louise  ?  " 

And  Olga  and  Louise  confirmed 
every  word  that  Aglaia  uttered. 

Papa  Bouchard,  thoroughly  exas 
perated,  struck  an  attitude  like  that 
of  Socrates  in  his  favorite  picture, 
u  Socrates  and  His  Pupils,"  and  ad 
dressed  Captain  de  Meneval. 

u  Monsieur  le  Capitaine,"  he  said, 
"you  of  course  do  not  and  cannot 
believe  a  word  that  these  young  ladies 
say  concerning  my  presence  here  to 
night." 

Victor,    very     much     alarmed,     and 

dreading   to    catch   Leontine's  eye,  yet 

retained  enough  of  his  wits  to  see  that 

he   had  Papa  Bouchard  at  a  disadvan- 

227 


Papa  Bouchard 

tage,  and  that  the  best  thing  to  do  was 
to  assume  the  worst,  and  decline  to 
listen  to  any  explanation. 

"  Monsieur  Bouchard,"  he  said, 
coldly,  "  you  are  asking  a  little  too 
much  of  me  when  you  wish  me  to 
believe  your  testimony  against  that 
of  three  ladies.  I  don't  know  how 
you  came,  but  I  am  very  glad  to  see 
you  now  that  you  are  here,  and  hope 
you  will  remain  to  supper." 

"  But  I  came  on  business  !  "  cried 
poor  Papa  Bouchard.  "  I  had  an  ap 
pointment  to  finish  up  a  transaction 
with  a  lady " 

And  Aglaia  and  Louise  and  Olga 
again  uttered  a  chorus  of  shrieks,  and 
pretended  to  faint. 

But  de  Meneval  had  troubles  of  his 
own  to  attend  to  then.  He  walked 
over  to  where  Leontine  sat,  and  assum 
ing  an  air  of  forced  jollity,  such  as  a 
man  puts  on  when  he  anticipates  a 
wigging  from  the  wife  of  his  bosom, 
said  : 

228 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Delighted  you  happened  to  arrive, 
my  love  —  and  what  do  you  think  of 
the  Pouters  ?  " 

"  I  think  they  are  very  jolly  girls," 
promptly  replied  Leontine ;  u  but  as  I 
am  another  uninvited  guest,  I  thought 
it  best  to  tell  Major  Falliere  and  the 
others  that  I,  too,  am  a  singer  and 
dancer  —  Satanita,  I  called  myself,  on 
the  spur  of  the  moment." 

De  Meneval  turned  from  green  to 
blue.  "  And  you  did  not  immediately 
inform  them  that  you  are  my  wife  ?  " 
he  hissed,  in  a  savage  whisper. 

"  No,"  coolly  replied  Leontine,"  and 
when  Papa  Bouchard  recognized  me, 
I  declared  I  had  never  seen  him  be 
fore.  I  am  little  Satanita  —  good  name, 
is  n't  it  ?  —  for  this  evening." 

De  Meneval,  enraged  and  discon 
certed  beyond  words,  felt  helpless. 
Suppose  he  were  to  proclaim  the 
truth  ?  Leontine,  as  if  answering  the 
thought  in  his  mind,  whispered,  with 
cruel  glee  : 

229 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  And  if  you  say  I  am  your  wife  I 
shall  simply  deny  it.  Satanita  I  am 
and  Satanita  I  shall  be,  and  I  shall 
live  up  to  the  part  —  of  that  you  may 
be  sure." 

De  Meneval  was  in  doubt  whether 
to  shoot  himself.  And 
then  there  was  a  move 
toward  the  table.  The 
girls  were  dragging  Papa 
Bouchard  forward,  who, 
still  very  angry,  was  yet 
not  insensible  to  their 
pretty  and  mischievous 
wiles.  Leontine,  run 
ning  up  to  Major  Fal- 
liere,  demanded  that  he 
sit  next  her  at  table,  while  de  Meneval 
found  himself  sitting  opposite  Leon- 
tine,  and  with  indescribable  feelings 
saw  her  drink  champagne,  as  he  sup 
posed,  by  the  tumblerful.  Falliere  had 
cleverly  got  hold  of  the  two  bottles  of 
apollinaris,  and  rilled  Leontine's  glass 
with  the  greatest  assiduity. 
230 


Papa  Bouchard 

There  was  much  noise  and  excite 
ment,  and  as  the  supper  progressed 
de  Meneval  grew  al 
most  frantic  over  the 
spectacle  his  dear  little 
Leontine  was  making 
of  herself.  For  she 
not  only  managed  to 
drink  innumerable 
glasses  of  apollinaris, 
but  she  sang,  she  even 
danced.  She  paraded 
up  and  down  the  room, 
singing,  in  her  sweet, 
saucy  voice,  verses  made  up  at  the 
moment. 

"  Oh,  I  am  the  Widow  Clicquot,  Clicquot, 
I  live  at  the  Chateau  Margaux,  Margaux, 
My  coachman's  name  is  Pommery  Sec, 
My  footman  is  Piper  Heidsieck, 
Moet-et-Chandon  are  my  span.'1 

She  paused  for  reflection  and  added  : 

"  And  when  Moe't  and  Chandon  go  lame, 
I  drive  Mumm  and  Roederer  ! ' ' 
231 


Papa  Bouchard 

Here  her  invention  gave  out,  and 
rubbing  the  top  of  de  Meneval's  head 
with  one  of  the  champagne  bottles, 
she  added,  laughing  : 

"  Houp-la  !  " 

That  "  Houp-la "  almost  drove  de 
Meneval  to  distraction,  but  a  roar  of 
applause,  in  which  all  joined  except 
her  husband  and  Papa  Bouchard,  en 
couraged  Leontine  to  continue.  After 
a  few  moments'  reflection  she  began 
singing  again  : 

"  This  is  the  way  in  Champagne  Land  ! 
Oh,  Champagne  Land  is  dear  to  me, 
But  Champagne  Land  is  queer  to  me. 
There,  lobsters  grow  on  trees, 
There  is  a  mine  of  cheese  ; 
The  oysters  walk, 
The  cocktails  talk, 

And  the  pate  de  fole  gras  builds  his  nest 
In  the  hedge  where  the  anchovy  paste  grows 
best." 

And     she     concluded     with     another 
"  Houp-la  !  " 

At    this    Papa    Bouchard,   who    had 
232 


Papa  Bouchard 

been  as  much  horrified  as  de  Mene- 
val,  leaned  over  and  whispered  in 
agony  to  him  : 

"  She  has  certainly  lost  her  mind 
and  appears  quite  crazy  !  " 

This  was  too  much  for  poor  de 
Meneval.  He  had  spent  an  hour  of 
torture  while  Leontine,  vastly  to  her 
own  amusement,  to  Major  Falliere's, 
and  to  that  of  the  Pouters,  had  ex 
hibited  all  the  saucy  graces  of  a  Sata- 
nita,  and  Queen  of  the  Harem-Scarem, 
but  de  Meneval  could  stand  no  more. 
Therefore,  rising  from  the  table,  he 
cried,  with  tears  in  his  eyes  : 

"  My  friends,  I  beg  of  you  to  leave 
me.  This  lady  who  calls  herself  Sata- 
nita  is  my  wife.  I  have  never  seen 
her  act  in  this  manner  before  —  I  am 
sure  she  never  so  acted  before.  It  is 
my  duty  as  well  as  my  privilege  to 
shield  her,  and  I  wish  to  say  that  if 
any  person,  man  or  woman,  ever  men 
tions  what  her  unfortunate  conduct 
to-night  has  been,  a  life  will  be  for- 
233 


Papa  Bouchard 

felted,  for  I  swear  to  shoot  any  man 
who  dares  to  breathe  one  word  against 
her,  and  any  woman  who  does  it  may 
reckon  on  my  vengeance."  And  with 
big  tears  rolling  down  his  cheeks,  he 
held  his  arms  out  to  his 
wife. 

This  was  too  much  for 
Leontine.  Just  as  Major 
Falliere  had  predicted,  at 
the  first  sign  of  repent 
ance  on  de  MenevaPs 
part  she  forgot  all  her 
resolutions  to  punish  him, 
and  falling  into  his  arms, 
she  exclaimed,  in  her  own, 
natural  voice : 

"  You  dear,  chivalrous 
angel,  I  have  n't  touched 
champagne  —  it  is  nothing  but  apol- 
linaris  water,  and  I  am  your  own  true, 
devoted  Leontine!  " 

De  Meneval  was  so  overcome  that 
he  could  do  nothing  but  pat  her  head 
and  cry : 

234 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Oh,  what  have  you  not  made  me 
suffer  to-night !  " 

"'At  least,"  replied  Leontine,  laugh 
ing  and  looking  toward  Major  Fal- 
liere,  "  you  have  not  spent  your  usual 
dull  evening  at  Melun,"  and  de  Mene- 
val  had  the  grace  to  blush,  while  old 
P.  M.  P.  laughed  back  at  the  roguish 
Leontine. 

Papa  Bouchard,  too,  had  suffered 
agonies  at  Leontine's  behavior  —  ago 
nies,  however,  which  the  attentions  he 
experienced  at  the  hands  of  the  young 
ladies  partly  ameliorated,  for  they  had 
not  stopped  pinching  and  tickling  him 
for  a  single  moment. 

"  Really,"  he  said,  "I  have  been  very 
much  agitated  and  distressed  —  I  never 
saw  such  doings  in  the  Rue  Clarisse. 
I  was  very  seriously  concerned  at  my 
ward's  behavior — very  seriously  con 
cerned.  But  now,"  continued  Papa 
Bouchard,  "  everything  seems  to  be 
straightened  out  to  everybody's  satisfac 
tion,  and  finding  ourselves  accidentally 
235 


Papa  Bouchard 

together,  why  not  finish  up  our  evening 
with  a  jollity  which  —  er — did  not  — 
er  — exist,  so  far  as  I  am  concerned,  in 
the  beginning  ?  So  I  say  —  houp-la  !  " 

Alas !  at  that  very  moment  the 
door  opened  softly  behind  him  and  in 
walked  Madame  Vernet  !  She  was 
prettier,  more  demure  and  gentle 
than  ever  before.  Her  black  costume, 
though  highly  coquettish,  had  a  nun- 
like  propriety  about  it.  She  ad 
vanced  with  downcast  eyes,  and  said, 
timidly  : 

"  I  knocked  and  thought  I  heard 
someone  say,  c  Come  in.'  I  do  not 
know  on  whose  hospitality  I  am  tres 
passing,  but  I  saw  Monsieur  Bouchard 
enter  half  an  hour  ago,  and  as  I  must 
see  him  on  a  matter  of  business,  I 
venture  to  ask  for  a  word  with  him 
here." 

Monsieur  Bouchard,  at  the  sight  of 
her,  seemed  about  to  collapse.  Not  so 
Captain  de  Meneval.  He  rose  at  once 
and  said,  with  an  ironical  bow : 

236 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Madame  Vernet,  you  are  trespass 
ing  on  the  hospitality  of  Captain  de 
Meneval,  the  gentleman  you  adopted 
as  a  brother  about  ten  days  ago  and 
handed  over  as  a  dangerous  lunatic  to 
Dr.  Delcasse  —  who  had  a  strait-jacket, 
a  cold  douche  and  a  padded  cell  ready 
for  him." 

At  this  Madame  Vernet  assumed  an 
attitude  more  shrinking,  more  timid 
than  before,  and  falling  on  Monsieur 
Bouchard's  shoulder,  cried: 

"  Dear  Paul,  protect  me  from  this 
dreadful  person  !  " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  was  not  at  that 
moment  able  to  protect  anybody.  He 
looked  the  picture  of  abject  despair 
as  he  clutched  the  arms  of  his  chair. 
He  could  only  say,  feebly  : 

"  Go  away  !   go  away  !  " 

"  Is  that  the  way  you  speak  to  your 
own  Adele  !  "  cried  Madame  Vernet, 
burying  her  head  on  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  reluctant  bosom  and  bursting 
into  tears.  "  Oh,  what  a  change  within 
237 


Papa  Bouchard 

one  short  week !  Last  week  it  was 
nothing  but  c  Dearest  Adele,  when 
will  you  name  the  day  ? '  And  now 
it  is  '  Go  away  !  go  away  ! ' 3  Ma 
dame  Vernet's  voice  was  lost  in  sobs, 
but  she  continued  to  rub  her  left  ear 
vigorously  into  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
shirt  front. 

"  It  is  false  !  "  wailed  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  trying  to  escape  from  Madame 
Vernet's  left  ear. 

"  Do  you  pretend  to  deny,"  sobbed 
that  timid  and  trustful  creature,  uthat 
only  a  week  ago  you  gave  me  this  ? " 
She  took  from  her  pocket  the  paste 
necklace,  and  at  the  sight  of  it  a  shock 
like  a  galvanic  battery  ran  down  the 
backbones  of  de  Meneval  and  Leon- 
tine.  "  And  that  when  I  found  it  to 
be  paste  you  offered  me  two  thousand 
francs,  in  humble  apology  for  the  at 
tempt  to  deceive  me  ?  " 

"  It  is  false  !  "  again  cried  Monsieur 
Bouchard,  almost  weeping. 

"  And  that  we  were  to  meet  here 
238 


Papa  Bouchard 

to-night  in  order  to  make  exchange  ? 
Oh,  dearest  Paul,  we  have  had  lovers' 
quarrels  before,  but  nothing  like  this  ! " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  was  too  much 
overcome  by  Madame  Vernet's  affec 
tionate  attentions  to  do  more  than 
groan  and  try  to  push  her  away.  But 
de  Meneval,  walking  coolly  up  to  her, 
quietly  and  very  unexpectedly  took  the 
necklace  out  of  her  hand,  saying  : 

"  This  is  the  property  of  my  wife, 
and  as  such  I  take  possession  of  it, 
and  call  on  Monsieur  Bouchard  to 
make  an  explanation." 

At  this  Madame  Vernet  uttered  a 
despairing  shriek,  and  throwing  both 
arms  round  Monsieur  Bouchard's  neck, 
screamed  : 

"  You  must  avenge  this  insult,  Paul ! 
And  you  must  at  least  give  me  the 
two  thousand  francs  !  " 

But  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  so  per 
fectly  delighted  with  the  notion  that  de 
Meneval  had  the  necklace  and  Pierre 
the  two  thousand  francs,  that  his  coun- 
239 


Papa  Bouchard 

tenance  changed  as  if  by  magic.  He 
struggled  to  his  feet,  and  after  vainly 
to  disengage  himself  from  Madame 
Vernet's  encircling  arms,  much  to  the 
amusement  of  the  three  young  ladies 
and  Major  Falliere,  cried  : 

"  I  am  perfectly  overjoyed  to  make 
an  explanation  —  an  explanation  that 
will  cause  you,  Leontine,  and  you,  de 
Meneval,  to  forget  all  the  unpleasant 
events  of  this  evening.  This  necklace 
is  paste  —  and  the  one  Leontine  has  is 
real.  You  may  remember,  de  Mene 
val,  you  came  to  my  apartment  a  week 
ago  last  Monday  evening,  bringing 
Leontine's  real  diamond  necklace  with 
you.  You  told  me  that  when  you 
bought  it  for  her  you  also  bought  an 
imitation  one  for  seventy-five  francs, 
which  you  kept  a  secret  from  her." 

De  Meneval,  during  this  speech, 
had  lost  his  dashing  and  determined 
attitude. 

"  I  believe   I  did  something  of   the 
kind,"  he  said,  meekly. 
240 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  And  that  you  had,  still  unknown 
to  Leontine,  put  the  paste  one  in  place 
of  the  real  one  ;  and  you  threatened,  if 
I  did  not  advance  money  to  pay  a  large 
bill  you  owed  at  the  Pigeon  House  for 
things  like  this — "  Monsieur  Bouchard 
indicated  the  supper  table  and  the 
guests  with  one  wave  of  his  arm  - 
"you  would  take  the  necklace  to  the 
pawnbroker." 

De  Meneval  turned  to  Leontine, 
and  knowing  what  was  coming,  said, 
with  a  sickly  smile  : 

u  Dearest,  will  you  forgive  me  ?  " 

u  Indeed  I  will !  "  replied  Leontine, 
who  knew  more  of  what  was  coming 
than  did  de  Meneval. 

"Scarcely  were  you  gone,"  con 
tinued  Monsieur  Bouchard,  assuming 
his  oracular  manner,  which  sat  rather 
awkwardly  on  him,  as  Madame  Ver- 
net  persisted  in  nestling  on  his  shoul 
der,  "  when  in  comes  Leontine  with 
the  paste  necklace,  and  for  the  same 
purpose  —  money  or  the  pawnbroker. 
16  241 


Papa  Bouchard 

It    at    once  occurred    to  me  that    she 
could  not  be  trusted  with  any  necklace 
on  which  she  thought  money  could  be 
raised  —  her  debts  were  to  tailors  and 
dressmakers  —  so  I  gave  her  back   her 
own  necklace  — 
she  has  it  now — 
and    told    her    it 
was     paste,    and 
she  said  it  looked 
it.       Then,    just 
as  I   had  got   rid 
of  her,  in  comes 
this     lady  —  " 
Papa      Bouchard 
made  a  desperate 
effort  to  shake  off 
Madame  Vernet, 

but  that  diffident  person  only  held  on  to 
him  the  more  affectionately  —  "  picked 
up  the  necklace,  clasped  it  round  her 
neck,  and  walked  off  with  it,  and  I  have 
spent  the  most  miserable  week  of  my 
life  trying  to  get  it  back.  I  had 
arranged  to  give  her  the  two  thousand 
242 


Papa  Bouchard 

francs,  which  Pierre,  my  man,  has  in  his 
pocket  at  this  moment,  when,  owing  to 
this  lady's  indelicate  persistence  in  fol 
lowing  me  here,  and  in  rashly  exposing 
the  necklace,  she  lost  it,  and  I  keep 
my  two  thousand  francs.  If  I  could 
find  that  rascal  Pierre  I  could  prove  all 
I  say." 

And  as  if  in  answer  to  his  name,  the 
door  was  burst  open,  and  in  rushed 
Pierre,  pale  and  breathless. 

u  Monsieur,"  he  cried  to  Papa  Bou 
chard',  "  all  is  discovered,  and  we  are 
in  the  greatest  danger.  My  wife  Elise 
found  out  everything  from  the  concierge 
in  the  Rue  Bassano  this  evening.  She 
went  back  to  Mademoiselle  Bouchard, 
and,  if  you  please,  both  of  them  took 
the  train  for  Melun  to  capture  us  — 
and  just  as  I  was  coming  to  warn  you 
I  ran  into  them  at  the  foot  of  the 
stairs.  They  had  asked  for  Captain  de 
Meneval's  quarters,  in  order  to  get  him 
to  help  them  search  for  us.  They  are 
on  the  stairs  now  !  " 
243 


Papa  Bouchard 

Leontine  and  de  Meneval,  meaning 
to  let  Monsieur  Bouchard  bear  alone 
the  brunt  of  Mademoiselle  Bouchard's 
wrath,  immediately  scuttled  into  seats 
against  the  wall,  which  they  occupied 


with  great  dignity.  Major  Falliere, 
who  had  heard  of  Mademoiselle  Bou 
chard,  got  as  far  away  from  the  girls  as 
he  could,  and  they  —  Aglaia,  Olga  and 
Louise  —  with  much  discretion  ranged 
themselves  primly  on  a  sofa  at  the 
farthest  end  of  the  room.  But  this  left 
244 


Papa  Bouchard 

Papa  Bouchard  standing  in  the  middle, 
with  Madame  Vernet  embracing  him 
tenderly.  He,  too,  would  have  liked 
to  flee,  but  he  was  literally  frozen 
with  terror,  and  unable  to  move  or 
speak.  And  then  the  door  came  open, 
and  in  walked,  or  rather  marched, 
Mademoiselle  Celeste  Bouchard  and 
Elise. 

Never  in  all  his  fifty-four  years  of 
life  had  Monsieur  Bouchard  seen  his 
sister  in  such  a  state  as  she  was  at  that 
moment.  Her  eyes  sparkled,  and  her 
small  figure  was  erect  and  commanding. 
Her  emotions  had  made  both  her  and 
Elise  altogether  forget  the  primness 
and  propriety  of  their  costumes,  for 
which  mistress  and  maid  had  been 
noted.  Mademoiselle  Bouchard's  cor 
rect,  elderly  bonnet  seemed  to  have 
caught  the  same  infection  of  demorali 
zation  as  Monsieur  Bouchard,  Pierre 
and  Pierrot,  for  it  sat  at  a  most  im 
proper  and  dissipated  angle.  Her 
mantle  was  awry,  she  had  on  one  white 
245 


Papa  Bouchard 

glove  and  one  black  one,  and  a  fringe 
of  white  petticoat  showed  the  agitation 
in  which  she  had  dressed. 

Elise  was  in  somewhat  the  same  con 
dition,  and  she  clutched  a  flower  pot  and 
a  gold-headed  stick  which  had  belonged 
to  Bouchard  pere,  under  the  impression 
they  were  a  travelling  bag 
and  an  umbrella. 

The  sight  that  met  their 
eyes  was  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  apparently  submitting 
with  willingness  to  Madame 
Vernet's  endearments,  while 
the  lady  herself  sobbed  out 
upon  his  breast : 

"  Oh,  Paul,  dearest,  pro 
tect  your  own  Adele  from 
that  dreadful  old  woman  !  " 
Now,  this  was  too  much  for  any  wo 
man  to  stand.      Mademoiselle  Bouchard, 
panting  and  trembling  with  wrath  and 
horror,  sank  into  a  chair. 

"  Elise,"  she  gasped,  putting  her  hand 
before  her  eyes,  "  put  up  your  umbrella 
246 


Papa  Bouchard 

between  me  and  that  disgraceful  sight. 
I  cannot  look  upon  it." 

Elise,    equally   agitated,   made   futile 


attempts   to  convert   the  stick  into   an 
umbrella,  and  then  cried  out : 

"  Oh,  this  is  only  a  stick  !      Perhaps 

I  put  the  umbrella  in  the  travelling  bag." 

But   failing  to  find  an   umbrella  in  the 

flower  pot,  she  collapsed  into   a  chair 

247 


Papa  Bouchard 

next  her  mistress,  crying  out  :  "When 
you,  Mademoiselle,  have  finished  with 
Monsieur  Bouchard  I  '11  disposeof  Pierre. 
Oh,  the  rascal !  " 

Pierre,  like  his  master,  was  dumb 
before  the  accuser.  Not  so  Madame 
Vernet.  She  continued  to  appeal  to 
Monsieur  Bouchard  : 

"  Oh, darling  Paul,  I  am  10  frightened ! 
Why  don't  you  send  her  away  ? " 

"But  I  am  not  your  '  darling  Paul' 
and  never  was  !  " 

Poor  Monsieur  Bouchard  was  simply 
a  pitiable  sight,  and  the  de  Menevals, 
the  Major  and  three  girls  were  heart 
less  enough  to  go  into  convulsions 
of  silent  mirth  at  his  predicament. 
They,  too,  had  nothing  to  say  in  Made 
moiselle  Bouchard's  indignant  presence. 
But  that  lady  was  determined  to  be 
answered. 

"  Paul,"  she  said,  in  the  tone  of  an 
inquisitor,  "  stop  those  shocking  demon 
strations  toward  that  person  and  explain 
your  conduct  to  me." 
248 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  My  dear  Celeste,"  replied  Papa 
Bouchard,  in  a  faint  voice  and  almost 
weeping,  "  if  you  could  induce  this  lady 
to  stop  her  demonstrations  I  should  be 
the  happiest  man  on  earth.  And  there 's 
no  explanation  to  give.  I  'm  the  help 
less  victim  of  a  designing  woman." 

At  which  Madame  Vernet  screamed 
and  said,  trying  to  kiss  him  : 

"  But  I  will  forgive  you,  my  own 
Paul.  I  know  you  don't  mean  what 
you  say." 

And  Elise  added  to  Monsieur  Bou 
chard's  anguish,  and  to  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard's  horror  by  crying  out, 
"  Mademoiselle,  he  is  n't  trying  to  get 
rid  of  her.  He  is  tickling  her  and 
pinching  her  —  I  see  him  myself!  " 

Monsieur  Bouchard  thought  he 
should  have  died  of  horror  at  this  awful 
and  baseless  charge. 

Apparently     Madame     Vernet     was 

master  of  the  situation,  but  Major  Fal- 

liere,  the    cool,    the    resolute    Falliere, 

came  to  the  rescue.      Going  up  quietly 

249 


Papa  Bouchard 

to  Madame  Vernet,  he  deliberately 
raised  her  face  so  he  could  look  her 
squarely  in  the  eye. 

"  Madame  Vernet,"  he  said,  "  you 
seem  to  have  lost  sight  of  that  little  in 
cident  of  representing  my  friend,  Captain 
de  Meneval,  as  your  brother  and  a  danger 
ous  lunatic,  and  the  trick  you  played  on 
Dr.  Delcasse.  Now,  I  happen  to  know 
that  Dr.  Delcasse  is  determined  to  punish 
you,  if  he  can  find  you,  and  unless  you 
immediately  leave  these  quarters  and 
leave  Melun  I  shall  inform  Dr.  Del 
casse  of  your  whereabouts,  and  you  will 
have  a  visit  from  the  police." 

Madame  Vernet,  seeing  she  had  met 
her  match,  disengaged  herself  from  Mon 
sieur  Bouchard,  to  that  gentleman's  great 
joy.  Assuming  an  attitude  and  air  of 
great  innocence,  she  said  : 

"  I  don't  really  understand  what  you 
mean,  or  even  who  you  are.  But  being 
naturally  a  very  diffident  and  retiring 
person,  I  cannot  stand  the  least  unfavor 
able  criticism,  and  I  shall  certainly  leave 
250 


Papa  Bouchard 

this  censorious  and  unsympathetic  com 
pany." 

Major  Falliere  ceremoniously  offered 
her  his  arm,  escorted  her  to  the 
door,  and  opened 
it.  Madame  Ver- 
net  paused  on  the 
threshold. 

"  I  go,"  she  said, 
"  to  seek  refuge 
and  protection  with 
my  aunt  and  uncle 
in  Mezieres." 

And  the  Major 
shut  the  door  after 
her. 

Mademoiselle 
Bouchard  then  rose 
majestically  and  advanced  to  Monsieur 
Bouchard. 

"  Andjraw,  Paul,"  she  said,  "  will  seek 
refuge  and  protection  in  the  house  of 
your  sister  in  the  Rue  Clarisse,  where 
you  spent  thirty  happy  and  peaceful 
years.  You  will  there  resume  the  orderly 


Papa  Bouchard 

and  quiet  life  interrupted  by  your  unfor 
tunate  excursion  into  the  Rue  Bassano. 
You  will  return  to  early  hours  and 
wholesome  meals.  You  willhave  boiled 
mutton  and  rice,  with  a  small  glass  of 
claret,  for  your  dinner,  and  ten  o'clock 
will  be  your  hour  for  retiring.  An 
occasional  visit  to  a  picture  gallery  or  a 
museum  will  supply  you  with  amuse 
ments  far  more  intellectual  than  the 
orgies  you  have  been  indulging  in  at  the 
Pigeon  House." 

Monsieur  Bouchard,  the  image  of 
despair,  looked  round  him.  Captain  de 
Meneval  and  Leontine  were  in  fits  of 
laughter.  The  three  girls,  huddled  to 
gether  on  the  sofa,  were  tittering  ;  the 
grim  Major  was  smiling  broadly.  Even 
a  worm  will  turn,  and  so  did  Monsieur 
Bouchard. 

"  I  am  sorry,  my  dear  Celeste,"  he 
said,  in  a  voice  he  vainly  endeavored  to 
make  cool  and  debonair,  "  but  what  you 
suggest  is  impossible.  I  have  taken  my 
apartment  for  a  year.  And  I  find  that 
252 


Papa  Bouchard 

boiled  mutton  and  rice  for  dinner  do  not 
suit  my  constitution.  I  —  I  —  I  — 
shall  remain  in  the  Rue  Bassano." 

A  round  of  applause  from  Major  Fal- 
liere,  Leontine  and  Victor,  in  which  the 
three  young  ladies  joined,  much  to 
Monsieur  Bouchard's  annoyance,  greeted 
this.  Nevertheless,  it  stiffened  his  back 
bone. 

"  Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you  do 
not  intend  to  return  to  the  Rue  Cla- 
risse  ?  "  asked  Mademoiselle  Bouchard, 
in  much  agitation. 

"  Y — yes,"  replied  Monsieur  Bou 
chard,  trying  to  assume  a  swash 
buckler  air.  "  You  see,  I  don't  think 
the  air  of  the  Rue  Clarisse  agrees 
with  me  very  well.  I  often  had 
twinges  of  rheumatism  there.  Now, 
since  I  have  been  in  the  Rue  Bassano, 
my  joints  feel  about  twenty-five  years 
younger.  In  fact,  I  myself  feel  con 
siderably  younger  —  an  increased  vi 
tality,  so  to  speak.  I  am  sorry  to 
disoblige  you,  my  dear  Celeste,  but 
253 


Papa  Bouchard 

for  the  sake  of  my  health  and  other 
reasons  I  shall  remain  in  my  present 
quarters." 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard,  defeated, 
was  speechless.  Not  so  Elise.  Walk 
ing  up  to  Pierre,  she  seized  him  and 
bawled  : 

"No  excuses  about  your  health 
shall  keep  you  from  the  Rue  Clarisse. 
I  promise  you  that  you  shall  have  a 
very  different  time  there  from  your 
life  in  the  Rue  Bassano,  turning  night 
into  day,  running  out  here  to  the 
Pigeon  House  all  the  time  and  mak 
ing  a  show  and  a  scandal  of  yourself." 

"No,  Elise,"  firmly  replied  Pierre, 
who  had  much  more  real  courage  than 
his  master,  "  I  promised  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard  that  I  never  would  desert 
Monsieur  Bouchard.  If  he  remains 
in  the  midst  of  the  dangers  of  the 
Rue  Bassano  he  needs  my  protect 
ing  services  more  than  ever.  Al 
though  but  a  servant,  I  have  a  sense 
of  honor.  I  cannot  break  my  word." 
254 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  Oh,  you  old  hypocrite  —    "  began 
Elise. 

"  Hypocrite,  you  may  call  me,"  an 
swered  Pierre,  folding  his  arms  and 
turning  up  the  whites  of  his  eyes, 
"but  liar  and  fal 
sifier  you  cannot. 
Mademoiselle  — 
to  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard  -  -  "  I 
shall  keep  my  word 
to  you.  As  long 
as  Monsieur  Bou 
chard  remains  in 
the  Rue  Bassano 
I  stay  with  him. 
He  shall  not  face 
alone  the  dangers 
of  that  gay  locale  —  those  music  halls, 
those  theatres,  those  merry  cafes,  where 
all  sorts  of  delicious,  indigestible  things 
are  sold.  His  faithful  Pierre  shall  be 
with  him." 

Mademoiselle  Bouchard  realized  she 
was    beaten.       So    did     Elise.       They 


Papa  Bouchard 

rose  slowly.  De  Meneval  ran  into 
the  next  room,  and  bringing  out  a 
cage  that  held  the  redoubtable  Pierrot, 
put  it  into  Mademoiselle  Bouchard's 
hand. 

"  There,  dear  Aunt  Celeste,"  he 
cried,  "  is  your  consoler.  I  offered 
to  buy  him  from  the  proprietor  of  the 
Pigeon  House,  but  the  man  said  he 
would  give  me  the  bird  for  nothing  — 
in  fact,  he  would  pay  to  get  rid  of 
him.  He  was  driving  the  customers 
of  the  Pigeon  House  away  by  his 
language." 

"At  least,"  said  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard,  solemnly,  "  if  men  are 
renegades,  there  is  something  of  the 
same  sex  that  is  faithful  and  grateful. 
No  doubt  this  poor  bird  is  happy  at 
escaping  from  the  dissipated  atmos 
phere  of  the  Pigeon  House  to  the 
sweet  seclusion  of  the  Rue  Clarisse." 

But,  horror  of  horrors !  The  in 
stant  the  wicked  Pierrot  found  him 
self  going  in  the  direction  of  the 

256 


Papa  Bouchard 

door,  on  his  way  to  the  Rue  Clarisse, 
he  broke  out  into  the  most  outrageous 
denunciations  of  the  two  ladies. 
Shrieks,  demoniac  laughter,  yells, 


oaths  and  slang  of  the  worst  descrip 
tion  poured  from  him  ;  he  screamed 
with  rage,  bit  furiously  at  both  Made 
moiselle  Bouchard  and  Elise,  and 
forcing  the  cage  door  open,  with  al 
most  human  intelligence  flew  out  and 
17  •  257 


Papa  Bouchard 

perched  on  Monsieur  Bouchard's 
shoulder,  from  which  he  continued 
his  volley  of  abuse,  winding  up  with 
a  shout  of: 

"  Go  to  the  devil,  you  bowlegged 
old  rapscallions  !  " 

But  the  two  respectable  elderly  per 
sons  so  infamously  described,  were 
already  fleeing.  Of  course,  no  such 
bird  as  Pierrot  had  become  could  be 
tolerated  in  the  Rue  Clarisse,  and  Elise 
cried,  while  she  and  Mademoiselle 
Bouchard  ran  down  the  stairs : 

u  The  only  safe  thing  to  do,  Made 
moiselle,  is  to  keep  everything  mascu 
line  out  of  our  apartment.  They  are 
all  alike  —  men  and  parrots  —  every 
thing  that  is  masculine  is  abominable 
and  not  to  be  trusted.  They  live  to 
deceive  us  poor  women,  and  are  never 
so  happy  as  when  they  are  lying  to  us. 
So  let  them  go  —  Monsieur,  Pierre  and 
Pierrot  —  the  wretches,  and  trust  to 
retributive  justice  to  overtake  them  !  " 

But  neither  Monsieur  Bouchard  nor 

258 


Papa  Bouchard 

Pierre  seemed  to  fear  the  blindfolded 
lady  with  the  sword.  They  were  at 
that  moment  capering  with  glee,  and 
Pierre  was  shouting : 

"  I  would  n't  go  back  to  the  Rue 
Clarisse  for  a  million  of  monkeys  !  " 

And  Papa  Bouchard  was  saying : 

"  I  have  a  confession  to  make.  It 
is  this  —  that  I  like  a  gay  life,  and  as 
that  worthy  fellow  says,  I  would  not 
go  back  to  the  Rue  Clarisse  for  a 
million  of  monkeys,  and  all  the  money 
in  the  Bank  of  France  beside.  I  in 
tend  to  lead  a  very  gay  life,  hereafter. 
I  am  a  changed,  a  reformed  man. 
Leontine,  I  shall  allow  you  three- 
fourths  of  your  income  to  spend  —  and 
if  you  get  into  straits,  come  to  Papa 
Bouchard  and  perhaps  I  '11  do  some 
thing  handsome.  Victor,  when  next 
you  have  a  little  party  of  Pouters  on 
hand,  don't  forgot  your  Papa  Bou 
chard." 

"  Indeed  I  won't,"  cried  de  Mene- 
val,  "  and  Falliere  and  I  will  promise 
259 


Papa  Bouchard 

to  get  twenty  of  the  best  fellows  in  the 
regiment  and  take  you  on  the  biggest 
lark,  bat,  jag,  and  jamboree  you  ever 
heard  of  in  all  your  life  ! " 

"  Pray  don't  forget,"  answered  Papa 


Bouchard,  while  his  mouth  came  open 
as  if  it  were  on  hinges.     "  Remember  — 
it  is  to  have  all  the  combined  features 
of  a  lark,  a  bat,  a  jag  and  a  jamboree. 
And    Pierre,    my    man,   we    won't    go 
back  to  the  Rue  Clarisse  !  " 
260 


Papa  Bouchard 

"  No  !  "  shrieked  Pierre,  capering 
in  an  ecstasy  of  delight,  "  we  won't  go 
back  to  the  Rue  Clarisse  ! " 

And  Pierrot  yelled  as  if  inspired, 
"  We  won't  go  back  to  the  Rue  Cla 
risse  !  We  're  free  !  we  're  free  !  Gay 
dogs  are  we !  " 


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